Come What May
by FadedPride
Summary: Harry Potter is five years old and has never learned his name. He doesn't speak, and he doesn't trust. Severus Snape is a man haunted by mistakes made in the past, tormented by a lost love. Can the two come together to help each other heal? Not slash. Know now that I do not own Harry Potter or any characters or plot lines affiliated with the series.
1. Chapter 1

Privet Drive was, by all standards, very normal. Normal people lived in uniform, normal houses and went to their normal jobs in their normal cars. The houses were all the same normal beige color, and the children all ran about with their bikes and scooters and ice cream cones, playing normal children games. All, that is, except for one.

While the other children of Privet Drive laughed and joked and played the summer away, one small child at Number 4 Privet Drive could always be seen watching enviously as he worked in the garden, or white-washed the shed, or raked the lawn. He was a thin child, almost five years old, with an untidy mop of black hair and big green eyes like chipped sea glass. His clothes were ragged and baggy and his bare feet were dirty and scratched.

"Trouble , he is," the neighbors whispered. "Tried to kill his uncle and aunt. An orphan, you know. His parents were a bad sort."

"I try my best with the lad," the child's uncle, Vernon Dursley, would often say down at the pub. "But he's wild and unruly. A bad influence on my little Dudley."

"Impossible to teach manners," Petunia Dursley, the boy's aunt, would sniff. "Dirty, like an animal. Bites, too."

"Yes," the neighbors agreed, averting their eyes when Vernon would cuff the boy about the head or Petunia would swing a frying pan at him. "He needs discipline."

During the day, the boy would be given a list of chores to do. At night, he would be locked inside the cupboard under the stairs, his bedroom. If he was lucky, his aunt would toss a scrap of bread or some stale crackers in the cupboard too. And late into the night, when he would finally fall asleep, the boy would dream.

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"_Severus…_"the voice called, faint and melodic. "_Sev….Harry….please…"_

Severus Snape jerked awake, sweat soaked and panting. The very faint scent of honeysuckle lingered in the air, haunting him. He sighed, brushing his damp hair out of his face with a shaky hand and leaning back against the pillows, his heart hurting.

It certainly wasn't the first time he had dreamed about her, but most of his dreams about Lily were nightmares. He heard her screaming, begging for her life before a sharp green light flashed…..but this dream was very different. This dream made it seem like Lily was trying to tell him something.

"Impossible," he scoffed, turning and drawing the covers over himself. "The dead don't speak."

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"BOY!" a booming voice bellowed as the child jerked awake. "Make breakfast. Now!"

Dust drifted down as his uncle placed a well-aimed kick at the door for good measure.

The child sighed, reaching around for the crooked, scratched spectacles he wore. Slipping them on, he blinked a few times in the blurry dark before slipping out of the cupboard and into the kitchen. His aunt gave him a disdainful look from the kitchen table, where she was sipping her coffee.

"Wash your hands first," she ordered crisply.

The boy obeyed, scrubbing his hands under the hot water until they were red. He then pulled out several frying pans and a carton of eggs and rasher of bacon and began cooking. He had to stand on a small wooden stool to reach the top of the stove, but his actions were quick and precise, clearly well-practiced.

"Mummy!" a chubby five year old wailed, coming into the kitchen. "I want pancakes!"

Vernon flicked down his newspaper and aimed a sharp look at the boy cooking. "You heard my son, boy. Make some pancakes."

"With chocolate chips!" his cousin added.

The small child cooking narrowed his eyes, but moved his stool to the pantry and retrieved the necessary ingredients for the pancakes.

"What would you like to do today, Dudley?" he heard his aunt ask her son.

"Does Daddy work?" Dudley asked, slurping his orange juice nosily.

"I'm afraid so, my lad," Vernon said genially, ruffling the child's blonde hair. "It's just you and your mother today."

"Can we go out for ice cream?" Dudley asked eagerly as his cousin placed a plate of steaming pancakes in front of him.

"Of course, darling," Petunia murmured as the smaller boy placed her plate in front of her as well.

"Yeah!" cheered Dudley, taking a huge bite of pancake, chocolate already smeared across his face.

They chatted amongst themselves while they ate. The smaller child stood nearby silently, his own stomach rumbling as he watched.

"You," Vernon barked, snapping his fingers at the boy. "Dishes. Now."

Silently, the tiny child moved forward gathering up the dirty plates and silverware, barely flinching when Dudley kicked him, chortling.

"You have a list of chores to do," Petunia informed his crisply as he began scrubbing the plates. "I expect them to be completed by the time Dudley and I return, or you will be sleeping outside tonight."

"And don't even think about stealing any food," Vernon rumbled, casting the boy a disgusted look. "I won't allow a freak like you to take food out of my son's mouth."

The child rolled his eyes, and his uncle caught the action. With a growl, he picked the little boy up by his throat and slammed him against the wall. His face turned a mottled scarlet color as he glared balefully at the child.

"YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT ME, BOY!" he roared, slamming the child against the wall again. "I TOOK YOU INTO MY HOME, FED YOU, CLOTHED YOU. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A WORTHLESS FREAK, BUT WE TOOK YOU IN OUT OF THE KINDNESS OF OUR HEARTS!" Spittle coated the child's face and blood dripped down his cheek from a gash on his head.

With a grunt of disdain, the large man flung the boy onto the tiled floor and lumbered away, breathing heavily. Petunia peered down at the child, her mouth pursed.

"Clean up the blood on the floor before it stains," she said, turning away. Dudley wandered over and kicked the boy in the ribs.

"Don't you be ungrateful!" he admonished, kicking his much smaller cousin again. Petunia put her hands on her son's shoulders.

"Come along, Dudders," she said, stroking his blonde hair. "Go get dressed so we can go get ice cream. Perhaps we can stop by the toy shop as well, hmm?"

Dudley giggled, nodding enthusiastically, and together mother and son left the kitchen, leaving the tiny boy to pull himself up and blink blood out of his eyes. He slowly and stiffly stood, and then he finished the dishes.

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Severus tossed and turned in his sleep fitfully.

"_Severus…" _the voice floated around him like wind chimes, _"my son…please…Harry…Severus…"_

He jerked awake, the smell of honeysuckle again in the still air of his bedroom. He sighed as he flicked his wand and lit a nearby candle, rubbing his face wearily. It was the fourth night in a row that Lily had haunted his dreams.

"What are you trying to tell me?" he asked the dark and silent room. There was no answer.

He leaned back heavily. In the dreams, Lily kept mentioning Harry. Harry, he recalled, was the name of her and Potter's son. The Boy-Who-Lived. He snorted. How old would the child ne now? Four? Five?

"And probably already spoiled and arrogant," Severus muttered resentfully. :Just like his bloody father."

Without warning, his candle was extinguished, and the smell of honeysuckle briefly grew stronger. Severus blinked.

"Lily?" he called into the darkness, feeling at once hopeful and foolish.

There was silence.

Severus sighed again. "I'm going mad," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his long nose.

A very faint laugh, so soft he wasn't sure if it was real or not, echoed in his ears.

"You want me to check on your bloody son? To make sure he's being treated like a proper prince?" he growled into the silence. "Fine. Fine, I'll go see the brat. Happy?"

With a gust of wind, his candle relit and the smell of honeysuckle faded. Severus leaned back despondently.

"I AM going mad," he groaned.

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The boy shifted in his sleep, the sweet, delicate scent of honeysuckle enveloping him. His pale face, mottled with bruises, scrunched up as he heard the gentle words being murmured as though into his ear.

The sound Dudley gleefully stomping on the stairs above him jolted him awake. He blinked blearily, honeysuckle still filling his nose.

"Oi! You! Wake up! Mummy says you gotta make me breakfast, and I am hungry!"

The little boy scowled, annoyed that his nice dream had been ruined. He shoved on his glasses and left the cupboard, entering the kitchen. His aunt and uncle were at the table, drinking coffee and reading the paper, as usual.

Dudley smirked at him, his blue eyes sparkling. "Make me pancakes!"

The smaller boy's emerald eyes narrowed slightly, but he retrieved his wooden stool and began looking through the pantry.

"Hey," Dudley said, poking him painfully in the back. "Why don't you talk? Are you stupid?"

The child gritted his teeth and ignored his cousin, grabbing the pancake mix and dragging his stool to the stove.

"I'm talking to you!" Dudley said, pulling his hair so the little boy was facing him. "Look at me when I talk to you! It shows respect, right, Daddy?"

"That's right, my boy," Vernon said absently, his small eyes scanning the business section of the paper.

Dudley pulled his cousin's hair again. "Maybe that's why nobody wants you," he suggested. "'Cuz you're stupid and ugly and smelly and skinny. Maybe your mummy and daddy killed themselves 'cuz you were such a disappointment!" He chortled, shoving the smaller boy against the stove.

The boy's eyes blazed with anger and he breathed heavily. A strange feeling began building inside him and in the air around him. Oblivious, Dudley poked him again.

"Freaky freak," he taunted. "Gots no name 'cuz he's so stupid!"

The tingling feeling grew heavier, and the boy's tiny fists clenched.

"Stupid, stinky freak!" Dudley sang, giggling,

With a bright blue flash, Dudley flew across the room and slammed into the table. All the electricity in the house flickered and plates flew off the counters. Dudley began to wail, heaving great racking sobs and both Petunia and Vernon leapt to their feet, faces pale.

Petunia scooped up the chubby, crying five year old and cast a fearful look at the boy. Vernon, however, had a murderous look of rage in his piggy eyes. He began unbuckling his belt, ripping it off of his large body as he advanced on the little boy, who looked as surprised as the rest of them by what occurred.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Vernon roared, spit flying. "HOW DARE YOU USE THAT…FREAKY, DEMENTED NONSENSE IN MY HOUSE! HOW DARE YOU HURT MY SON! YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD!" He swung the belt at the child, the buckle catching the boy across the face.

Crimson blood dripped down the tiny boy's face, his emerald eyes filled with shock. Vernon grabbed the child by his hair and threw him into the hallway, where he hit the banister of the stairs with a crack. He stalked toward the crumpled heap of a little boy, raising his belt again and bringing it down hard.

"I WILL BEAT THE FREAK OUT OF YOU BOY, OR YOU WILL DIE FROM IT!" Vernon growled, cracking the leather belt across the trembling form again.

"YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU WERE BORN! I WILL…" Vernon was cut off by the front door flying open. Dumbfounded, he stared at the pale man with the glittering black eyes and billowing black robes as he stalked into the foyer.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man sneered, locking eyes with Vernon. "Is this a bad time?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Wow, was not expecting this kind of reaction. Well, since you all insist, here's a second chapter. Thanks for the support!_

Severus Snape sighed as he looked at the house in front of him. Number 4, Privet Drive, looked exactly like Numbers 1 to 8, Privet Drive. A square, beige house with a tidy front lawn and well-swept driveway. He found the neighborhood rather dreary and tiresome.

Gathering himself, he strode up the flagstone walk toward the pristine white door. But about halfway to it, he heard the sounds of a man shouting and the all too familiar sound of leather on flesh. He scowled. What in blazes was going on in there?

Striding to the door, he rapped on it smartly with his knuckles. The screaming continued inside, and no one answered. He knocked again impatiently. When nobody answered yet again, he sighed and opened the door, taking in the sight before him.

A very large, gelatinous man was towering over a small pile of tatty clothes at the base of the stairs. The walrus-like man had a thin brown leather belt raised above his head, and his face was a dangerous maroon color. Severus's eyes narrowed as he stared at the pile of clothes, which he soon realized was actually a small boy.

The scene jolted him back to his own childhood, where a similar dark-haired boy cowered beneath the wrath of one so very larger than him, and rage filled him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he sneered as the man stared at him, mustache quivering in fury, "Is this a bad time?"

The man's already maroon face turned several different interesting colors. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"You are trespassing, sir!" the man finally bellowed, small eyes narrowed. "I demand you leave at once!"

Severus merely raised his wand.

A scream issued from the kitchen, and he looked past the man to see a thin, sour-faced woman clutching an obese, sobbing child.

"Ah, Tuney," Severus smirked. "How….good to see you again."

Petunia raised a trembling hand. "You! You get out! We don't want your kind here!"

Severus merely gave a rather feral smile before turning back to the man…Vernon, he now remembered.

"Tell me," he said, almost conversationally, "is that Harry Potter?"

Vernon blinked as though the name was unfamiliar to him. Severus twirled his wand in his long, potion-stained fingers almost idly, his obsidian eyes glittering with an unreleased rage.

Vernon finally found his voice and bluster again. "If you do not leave immediately, I will be forced to call the constable!"

Severus almost lazily flicked his wand and sent a beam of red light toward the man, who crashed to the plush carpeting of the floor, his eyes darting back and forth wildly. Petunia screamed again and dropped to her bony knees next to her petrified husband. Severus ignored them both and strode over to the injured boy, robes billowing. He peered down at the tangled jet-black curls and round glasses with faint dislike. The child was an exact copy of James Potter. Then the boy blinked and opened his eyes, looking up at him, and Severus felt the world shatter around him as he took a step back.

Lily's bright green eyes stared at him from behind the scratched and smudged lenses. The eyes that had haunted his nightmares and graced his dreams for the last four years were in James Potter's face. Severus tried to sort through the warring feelings inside his chest, finally deciding to handle the matter at hand first. He knelt down.

"Potter?" he growled. The child flinched, and he sighed, softening his voice. "Potter. Harry?"

The green eyes watched him warily from a bruised face. Severus debated for a moment before reaching out to scoop the boy up.

Eyes narrowed, the boy scooted away from his hands, out of arm's length. His back was now against the wall.

Severus frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The child made no response, watching him unblinkingly.

"Fine," Severus said impatiently. "Stay here if you want." He turned away, intending to send his Patronus to Dumbledore and request he take care of the situation.

The boy's keen gaze darted from the strange man to his aunt sobbing over his uncle's prone body. He looked at Dudley trembling in the kitchen and made up his mind. Standing up shakily, he tugged on the man's robes.

Severus turned around in surprise, looking down at the small face peering up at him.

"Keep up," was all he said as he strode out of the house, not sparing the Dursley's another glance. The little boy stumbled after him, pain in his eyes, Lily's eyes.

With a martyred sigh, Severus bent down and scooped the child up, ignoring the sudden stiffness of the boy's body. The boy began struggling frantically, hitting Severus's arms and chest. Severus frowned, tightening his grip.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, be still!"

The child thrashed about even more, scratching and pounding Severus with his tiny fists. Gritting his teeth, Severus clutched the squirming boy even tighter and Apparated away, not bothering to check and make sure no muggles were watching.

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Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose as he stared at the little boy crouched in the corner of his sitting room, green eyes glinting. He had sent off a letter to Dumbledore the moment he had returned home to Spinner's End, requesting his presence.

"So," he said, locking eyes with the boy, who stared back at him defiantly. "You are the Boy-Who-Lived, eh?"

The boy made no response, merely watched Severus suspiciously.

They sat in tense silence for a few more minutes before Severus's fireplace flashed green and Albus Dumbledore stepped out, brushing soot off of his robes. The little boy's eyes widened, and he shrank back into the corner even more.

"Severus, my boy!" Albus said jovially, eyes twinkling. "Good to see you. You said you had something urgent to discuss?"

In response, Severus merely nodded in the direction of the boy. Albus turned, and the twinkle dropped from his eyes.

"Oh…"he said softly. "Harry Potter, I presume?"

Severus nodded curtly, arms crossed.

Albus knelt down in front of the child.

"Hello, Harry," he said softly. The boy backed away a bit farther and stared at him warily.

Albus looked over his shoulder at Severus, looking his age for once.

"What happened?"

Severus snorted. "Shouldn't you know, headmaster? After all, he is YOUR boy wonder."

Albus looked at him sadly. "Alas, I knew Petunia was uncomfortable with magic, but I did not expect…"

"Why leave him there at all?" Severus demanded. "Why not give him to a wizarding family to pamper and adore?"

Albus stood up. "That is exactly why, Severus. He needed to be humbled and modest. It would not have done for him to have grown up being treated as a hero, for we both know his job is not yet done."

"Job?" repeated Severus incredulously. "He is a five year old child."

"He is," Albus corrected, "a child of prophecy. Fate is cruel, yes, but there is nothing we can do for it. It is out of our hands."

Severus scoffed. "You really believe that, then? That this boy will truly defeat the Dark Lord?"

They both looked at the child crouched in the corner, watching them intently.

"I do not believe he is damaged beyond repair," Albus said finally. The child turned his emerald gaze on the old man, studying him silently.

"He is like an animal," Severus growled. "He is feral, Albus."

"He merely needs some kindness."

"Who are you going to send him to?"

Albus sighed, stroking his long beard. "Ah, well. We'll have to modify the Dursley's memories, of course, but that shouldn't be a problem. Perhaps a slight compulsion charm, to make them treat him more kindly?"

Severus stared at the old man. "You are sending him back to those muggles?"

"He is protected there by very strong blood wards, Severus. His mother…_Lily, _sacrificed her life for him, and the blood that runs through his aunt's veins protects him."

Severus rolled his eyes. "The take some of her blood and create different wards."

"And who would we give him to?" Albus asked, studying him intently.

Severus tapped his long fingers on the edge of his chair impatiently. "I don't know. The Weasleys? Likely they wouldn't notice one more added to their brood. Or Augusta can raise him with the Longbottom whelp. There isn't a wizarding family out there who wouldn't jump at the chance to raise the hero of the wizarding world."

Albus looked pensive. "I still maintain that treating him like a celebrity would be detrimental to the cause."

Severus rubbed his eyes wearily.

"You know, my boy," Albus began casually, far too casually, "you did take a Vow to protect him."

Severus scowled. "And I did my part by getting him out of that bloody house and giving him to you."

Albus sighed gustily. "He is a child of prophecy, Severus. He cannot have a normal life. He needs someone who understands that. Someone who will be able to guide him to his destiny when the time comes. Someone, I daresay, like yourself."

Severus very nearly gaped at the headmaster. "Absolutely not."

That damnable twinkle reappeared in the old man's eyes as he studied Severus intently. "I trust you of all people wouldn't treat him like a hero. And perhaps a strong background in magic would be useful…"

"Again," Severus said icily, "Absolutely not. I will not take in James Bloody Potter's son."

"Ah," Albus said. "But what about Lily Evans' son?"

There was a long silence as Severus fought with himself.

"Fine," he said finally through tightly gritted teeth. "But only until you find him a more suitable place. I am not a father, headmaster, nor do I have the slightest desire to be one."

Albus beamed merrily. "Of course, my boy. Of course. It may take some time, however. I trust you will bring him to Hogwarts with you come September?"

"I trust," Severus replied coldly, "it will not take that long to find suitable caregivers for the boy."

Albus merely shrugged, casting one last look at the boy listening and watching them intently. "I'll check in on you both in a few days," he said, tossing a handful of Floo powder into the flames and disappearing.

Severus groaned, feeling as though he had just been had. He glanced toward the corner.

"Are you hungry?"

Aside from a slight narrowing of emerald eyes, there was no response.

Impatient, Severus stood. "If you want food, you will come to the kitchen and eat at the table like a civilized human being, not some wild animal." He strode from the room, not looking back.

The boy crept forward, a thoughtful look on his small face. He stood there uncertainly until the tantalizing smell of food drifted in from the direction of the kitchen. His little stomach rumbled, and biting his lip, he crept cautiously into the kitchen.

Severus barely spared him a glance. "Well, sit down, then."

The boy took in the small but clean kitchen. He pulled out a chair and then hesitated, darting a wary glance at Severus, who raised a brow.

"So you do understand. Good. Sit."

Watching Severus for any sudden movements, he perched stiffly in the chair. Severus reached over and spooned some spinach and beef onto the child's plate, pushing over a glass of pumpkin juice as well. The boy watched Severus carefully, his eyes following the man's every move.

Severus reached into his robes and removed a vial, which he uncapped. He sniffed the bright blue liquid inside before pouring it into the boy's juice. The child's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Pain reliever," Severus said shortly, turning back to his own plate.

The child looked at his plate and then hesitantly picked up a fork, emerald eyes darting back to Severus, who had no reaction. Slowly, the child speared a piece of beef and brought it to his mouth, chewing quickly. The meat's juices filled his mouth and invigorated his stomach, and he hurriedly ate the rest of the food on his plate and gulped the juice down. Casting a long look at Severus, he stiffly hopped off of his chair and took his plate to the sink. Cautiously, he approached Severus, stopping when the man looked at him.

"What are you doing?"

Silently, the child grabbed Severus's plate and glass and took them to the sink as well. He struggled to reach the tap but soon realized he was much too small. He looked around and, to his dismay, saw that the man did not have a small wooden stool he could stand on.

"That is…unnecessary," Severus said, watching him intently. "I will clean up later."

The boy slanted him a wary look, brow furrowed.

"In the meantime, we need to get you sorted out. You are quite the eyesore. Come."

He stood up and disappeared down the hallway. The boy hesitated before following a safe distance behind.

"In here," Severus called from the bathroom, and the boy edged in warily, staying close to the open door. Severus rummaged through the cabinets before coming out with a glass jar.

"Come here," he said, unscrewing the lid. The boy remained where he was.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Severus muttered, exasperated. "This a bruise paste, Potter. It will make your bruises fade."

The child still made no move toward him.

With a sigh, Severus handed he jar to the boy. "Here, then. Put it on yourself."

The little boy accepted the jar, sniffing it. He cautiously dabbed a finger in the thick yellow paste and stared at it before looking up at Severus.

"Rub it in the bruised areas," Severus said impatiently. The boy bit his lip.

"Like this." Severus reached out and scooped up some paste with one long finger, swiping it across the boy's bruised arm. The child's eyes widened as the skin faded back to its normal pale color. He moved a bit closer, allowing Severus to apply to paste to every visible bruise, flinching slightly when the man touched his face.

Severus stood back and studied the child. He looked slightly better. He drew his wand and healed the gashes on the boy's head and legs, and then frowned. Potter was so…dirty.

"You need a bath," he stated. The boy narrowed his eyes, backing up slightly. Severus ignored him, turning to the tub and filling it with warm water. He turned back to the child.

"Undress and get in."

The boy shook his head firmly, the first obvious reaction Severus had gotten out of him so far.

"You are filthy," Severus replied. "I will not allow you to run around my home looking the way you do. Either get in yourself, or I will have to force you."

Eyes flashing defiantly, the little boy shook his head again.

"And I have had enough of your silence!" Severus growled, staring the child down. "You clearly understand what I am saying, and you are old enough to speak. So speak!"

The boy made no response.

Frustrated, Severus grabbed him, waving a wand to banish his clothes. The boy struggled fiercely, kicking and hitting Severus as the man dumped him unceremoniously into the water.

The boy sat there sullenly, glaring at Severus, who ignored him and conjured a pitcher to pour water over the tangled black mess of curls. He scrubbed the far too thin body and soaped up that damnable Potter hair, the water soon turned a disgusting grey color. Severus banished it with a flick of his wand, grabbing a towel.

"Stand up," he ordered.

The little boy refused, arms crossed and shivering.

Growling in impatience, Severus again scooped the child up and carried him across the hall into the spare room, plopping him on the bed. He conjured up some little black pajamas and shoved them at the boy.

"Can you at least dress yourself?"

Defiantly, the little boy hurriedly slipped on the pajamas, his emerald gaze watching Severus's every movement.

"Sleep," the Potions Master ordered briskly, striding out of the darkened room without looking back.

The boy, Harry, watched intently for any sign that he would return, but was soon assured he would not and slipped off into a fitful sleep, the smell of honeysuckle comforting him in his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: And one more chapter before bed. Today was my day off, so I had plenty of time to write. The next chapter will be up by Thursday evening. Once again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, Favorited Followed, or just stopped by to read. Keep up the motivation, it makes me write that much faster!_

The next few days were spent with Harry edging around Severus and Severus mainly ignoring Harry. They took meals together in silence, Harry hurriedly eating everything put in front of him before attempting to do dishes. Severus began adding a nutritional potion to the child's pumpkin juice every morning, which the boy always eyed suspiciously but drank anyway.

For the most part, Severus read or worked on potions, Harry sitting a safe distance away and watching silently. Severus was aware that every move he made was studied by the emerald eyes that followed him, but he was unsure of how to coax the boy into actually interacting with him. His experience of small children was limited to Hogwarts, where even the youngest student was a good deal older than Harry. He had no idea where to begin with a wary almost five-year old, and so he let the boy do what he wanted, only forcing him to eat and take baths. He had a vague feeling that perhaps he was supposed to be doing more, but he shook it off testily.

It was on a day much like all the others when something finally happened. Severus was in the study reading the latest German potions journal and the solemn-eyed little boy was sitting in the hallway, watching him. Without warning, there was a brisk knock at the front door, and Harry jumped, startled. Severus glanced up, raising a brow at the child before standing up smoothly, making his way to the foyer, Harry trailing behind him. He pulled open the door to reveal Minerva McGonagall.

"Severus!" the older woman greeted, smiling briefly at him.

"Minerva," he acknowledged curtly, nodding slightly.

Minerva's eyes drifted past him to the little boy hovering down the hallway.

"Is that him?"

"Obviously," Severus drawled. "Seeing as I don't make it a habit to have little boys in my home."

Minerva merely shot him a disapproving glance. "May I come in?"

Severus sighed deeply. "I suppose." He stepped back, closing the door behind her. She walked past him and approached Harry, kneeling down a few feet away. Harry watched her cautiously, backing up a bit.

"Hello there," she said softly. Harry's eyes narrowed and he popped a little thumb into his mouth.

"You're a bit old for that now, aren't you?" Minerva chided gently. The little boy merely stared.

"Ach, I see now. You're naught but a wee thing, eh?" the older woman smiled at him softly, and the little boy took his thumb out of his mouth uncertainly.

"Do you have very many toys to play with?"

The child cocked his head, confusion across his little face. Minerva glared up at Severus.

"Really, Severus. He has nothing to play with?"

Severus frowned. "I was not aware he needed playthings, seeing as he does not play," he replied stiffly.

Minerva scowled, standing up. She strode to the living room and returned shortly with a small, green, decidedly lumpy couch pillow. She drew her wand and with a shimmer the pillow became a small, green and decidedly lumpy plush dragon. Harry's eyes widened, and he took a step forward before hesitating.

Minerva knelt down again, holding the toy out. "Would you like to play with him?"

Uncertainty crossed the boy's face, his eyes watching the dragon longingly. Minerva tapped her wand to the toy again and it breathed out a puff of white smoke. Harry giggled, and then clapped his hands over his mouth, looking stricken. He turned and ran down the hallway, disappearing into the sitting room. Minerva stood up, looking to Severus in confusion. The Potions Master looked pensive.

"What just happened?" Minerva asked.

"That is the first sound Potter has made all week," Severus replied thoughtfully, striding down the hallway. Minerva followed, still holding the stuffed dragon. They found Harry crouched back in the corner of the room, watching them with fear in his eyes.

"Harry," Minerva said gently, moving forward. "You did nothing wrong child. Come, wouldn't you like to play with the dragon? He looks mighty lonely to me."

The little boy shook his head frantically, his eyes darting to Severus.

"I am not going to hurt you, Potter. How many times must I tell you?" Severus said impatiently. Minerva glared at him.

"Perhaps that is why he's so afraid of you! Must you speak to him like that?"

Severus sneered. "He responds to it far more than he responds to your coddling."

"Giving a child his first toy is hardly considered coddling!" Minerva said heatedly, narrowing her eyes at him from behind her spectacles.

Unbeknownst to them, the child in question had slowly begun creeping forward. He interrupted Severus's and Minerva's argument with a gentle tug on the witch's robes. Both adults looked down on him.

"Yes, Harry?" Minerva asked gently. Harry bit his lip, glancing at the plush dragon. Minerva smirked at Severus triumphantly before kneeling before the boy. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Here you are, lad," she said, handing him the toy. He took it very carefully, hugging it to himself. He hesitated, indecision in his eyes, and then he reached a tiny hand up and patted Minerva's cheek before hurrying back to his corner.

Minerva stood up, tears shining in her eyes. "How could anyone be so crass as to reduce a child to that state? Especially Lily's child?"

Severus frowned, his brows knitting together. "I cannot answer that."

They both stared at Harry, who stared back at them, his dragon clutched protectively to his tiny chest.

"It's his birthday in three weeks, you know," Minerva said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Severus turned to her, alarmed.

"So?" he said tautly.

"So," she replied briskly, "I hope you know how to bake a cake."

Severus shook his head firmly. "I do not do birthdays, Minerva. And likely he won't miss it."

The older woman's eyes flashed dangerously. "You would deny this child the simple pleasure of celebrating his fifth birthday?"

"I do not know how to celebrate a birthday, and I will not have any more children roaming about my home."

"No," she agreed readily. "I don't doubt other children would merely panic him. But Severus, a small cake and a few presents would not go amiss."

Severus looked doubtful. "He just got a toy."

Minerva scowled. "He is a little boy, Severus! He needs to run and play and make messes!"

"I rather like him the way he is. He doesn't annoy me with noise or get underfoot."

Minerva had a dangerous look on her face as she stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Perhaps that is why he doesn't speak, then. Perhaps he knows you approve of this unnatural silence!"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I have told him to speak. He prefers not to. Not my problem."

Minerva looked ready to hex him, but they were both surprised by a small body stepping between them. They looked down at the little boy, who had his arms crossed and a fierce look on his face. His dragon dangled from one had as he shoved it back at Minerva, scowling at her.

Minerva looked offended briefly before something cleared in her expression and she began to laugh.

"I daresay, Severus," she chortled, "You have quite the little defender here."

Severus gaped at the boy.

Minerva knelt down. "Now, honey, I'm not going to hurt Severus. You may keep the toy."

Harry looked doubtful, glancing up at the dumbfounded man, who quickly regained his composure.

"She is no threat," he said stiffly. "Keep the toy."

Harry bit his lip. He peered up at them both with worried green eyes, his mop of black curls flopping into his face, the stuffed dragon clutched to his chest.

Minerva shot a genuine smile toward Severus, who sneered.

"I'll be taking my leave, then," she said. "Perhaps I'll be back in a few weeks for some birthday cake."

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, but she merely smiled and left, leaving him staring down at the little boy, who looked up at him uncertainly.

"Well. It's about time for lunch, I suppose." He abruptly turned and went to the kitchen, the child trailing after him.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: This chapter came out of nowhere. I was writing, and suddenly it just took a hard turn left. The results are interesting, to say the least. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you to all reviewers, readers, and anyone who has favorited or is following my humble little story._

Severus sighed and put down his pen, unable to concentrate on the lesson plans he was attempting to outline. He glanced up at Potter, who was perched in the corner of his study, hugging his dragon to his chest and watching Severus. He eyed the boy critically.

It had been nearly two weeks since the child had come into his care, and he already looked worlds better. He had gained a little bit of weight, not nearly enough but at least he no longer looked quite as starved, and Severus had been Transfiguring clothes for him each night. But Transfigured clothes didn't last as long as the real thing, and often were itchy and uncomfortable.

Severus frowned, uncertain how to go about acquiring little boy clothes. Taking the child out of the house would most likely panic him, and Severus didn't even want to think about all the people who would want to hug the Boy-Who-Lived. Not to mention, he thought to himself drily, how many people would assume Potter had been kidnapped by the big, bad Death Eater. No, no need to cause an international panic.

He ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair in frustration. Bloody Dumbledore seemed to be taking far too long to find a proper home for the boy, and as a result Severus was left with problems such as this. He growled, thinking through his limited acquaintances that had small children. There were only a handful, the Notts, Parkinsons, Bulstrodes, Goyles, Zabinis, and Crabbes. Most of them had been very loyal to the Dark Lord, and Severus knew asking them to help with the Boy-Who-Lived would be in bad taste. He scowled. That left the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy was self-serving, and he would most likely seize the chance to get close to Harry Potter. Cozying up to the boy would be a definite form of public redemption, and it helped that Potter was one of the most famous celebrities in the wizarding world. And, Severus recalled, their child, his godson, was about the same age as Potter. He hadn't seen young Draco Malfoy very much throughout the years, choosing to visit only on the required holidays.

With a sigh, Severus pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and dipped his quill into the inkwell to begin his missive to the Malfoys.

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Severus tossed and turned in his sleep, sweat soaking his sheets.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches….born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…."_

_As the seventh month dies…._

"_Very good, Severus," Voldemort praised, his eyes glinting. "I will find this child prophesied, and I will kill him…and you shall be rewarded. Oh yes, you have pleased me greatly tonight…"_

_As the seventh month dies…._

Severus gripped the sheets, his knuckles white.

"_I hear that mudblood you fancied got herself in the family way. Damn shame, filth like that breeding…"_

_Severus grabbed the Death Eater's throat. _

"_When?" he demanded, fiercely, desperately._

"_Ugh…" the man sputtered._

"_WHEN IS THE BABY DUE!" Severus screamed._

"_End…end of July…" _

Severus cried out in his sleep, his face contorted.

"_Master!" Severus croaked desperately. "Please…spare her…"_

_Voldemort laughed, high and cold._

"_And why would I do that?"_

"_Please…master," Severus begged._

"_You are a loyal servant, Severus. I shall spare her for you to have. But her son will die."_

"_Thank you, my Lord," Severus murmured, relieved._

Severus cried out in agony, thrashing about on the bed.

"_Dead…she's dead!" _

"_But her boy lives."_

"_Don't care….she's dead…"_

_Dead…_

_Dead…_

_And it's all my fault…_

Severus jerked awake as a crack of thunder boomed. His wild, tear-stained eyes caught a shadow slipping past his bedroom door.

"Potter!" he cried, scrambling out of bed and running down the darkened hallway.

"Potter!"

Lightning flashed through the windows, casting shadows.

"Potter!" Severus stumbled into the kitchen. It was empty. Nightmares chased the edges of his consciousness, his mind muddled and foggy.

"POTTER!" he yelled again, hoarsely.

A gust of wind and rain tousled his sweat-dampened hair, and he turned to see the back door swinging open. He ran past it into the pouring rain. Lightning flashed and thunder roared.

"POTTER!"

A flash of lightning illuminated the yard, throwing the little boy into sharp relief. He was standing in the rain, staring up at the storm. Wind tugged at his unruly hair and his glasses glinted.

His glasses…

"POTTER!" Severus roared. "JAMES POTTER! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HER, YOU BLOODY BASTARD! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HER, AND YOU LET HER DIE! YOU LET HER DIE…"

_Lightning flashed._

James Potter turned, his green eyes hauntingly glowing. No, not James…Lily…

"LILY! I'M SO SORRY!" Severus fell to his knees, rain plastering his hair to his head. "So sorry….it's all my fault…Lily…forgive me….please…oh Merlin, Lily…I miss you so fucking much….I miss you, Lils….I'm so sorry…"

Lightning flashed again, and Severus again noticed the green eyes had glasses.

Harry Potter stepped forward, the spectral remnants of his parents blurring his face.

"No…NO!" Severus howled at the raging sky. "NO!"

Lightning flashed, and the little boy was standing directly in front of Severus, rain dripping down his little face. His emerald eyes shone. His mother's eyes. And his mother's tiny slightly upturned nose. Her cupid's bow lips. Her cheekbones.

And James Potter's messy hair. His jaw. His hands.

Severus blinked through the rain and tears at the child, who was a poignant reminder of his past sins.

And the child stepped closer, reaching out a small hand.

Lightning flashed.

Severus stared at the hand, looking back into the little boy's face.

Lily's eyes.

Lily's son.

James' son.

Severus gave a strangled cry, torn between hatred, regret, remorse, and fear.

The child merely stood still, hand extended.

He closed his eyes, the torrent of emotions bottled up for so long overwhelming him. Stinging rain bit at his face. The rain was cold, but his tears were warm.

Lightning flashed, and opening his eyes and swallowing hard, Severus accepted the little hand, pulling himself up.

The child looked up at him, and Severus held his gaze for several long moments.

And then, with a rumbling crack of thunder, they turned and went inside together.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning found Severus staring blearily at a burnt piece of toast and Harry staring tiredly at him. There was a dull pounding in his head making it hard to concentrate on anything. Especially cooking, it appeared.

Severus cautiously took a bite of the toast and immediately grimaced.

"Rubbish," he said, flicking his wand. Their sorry breakfast disappeared.

"I just want to crawl back to bed," Severus bemoaned, head in hands. Harry cocked his head in concern.

At that precise moment, he heard the Floo in the living room flare. He groaned.

"Severus Snape!" a smooth, cultured voice called as a tall, elegant man entered the kitchen. He had long, silky blonde hair tied back with a black leather cord, a polished silver cane in his hand. Behind him trailed a small boy with the same pale hair.

"Lucius," Severus growled. "Would it have been so very hard to owl me back instead of barging in here like you own the place?"

Lucius Malfoy chuckled. "You said it was urgent." His silver eyes drifted past Severus to Harry, who shrank back in his chair a little, clutching his lumpy green dragon.

"My, my…" he murmured. "What have you been up to, Severus?"

"It's all Dumbledore's bloody fault," Severus groused.

"Would I be correct in assuming that is young Harry Potter?"

"Unfortunately."

Amusement crossed the aristocrat's face.

"Well, I must say, I never thought I'd see the day you had a child in your home…much less Harry Potter in your kitchen!" He chuckled, and Severus glared balefully at him.

"Draco, where are your manners?" Lucius chided, still chortling as he pushed the small boy forward. "Go introduce yourself."

Draco cast a wary look at his father before making his way over the Harry, whose eyes narrowed.

"Draco Malfoy," he said, holding out a small pale hand just like he had been taught.

Harry merely stared at him.

"Is the boy all right in the head?" Lucius asked Severus in undertone. Severus made a face.

"That's to be determined."

Little Draco huffed, lowering his hand. "You're quite rude, you know."

Harry sniffed, deliberately turning his head away.

"Oi!" Spots of color infused the little Malfoy's pale cheeks. "Don't ignore me!"

Harry stared off into the distance as though he had a very many great things on his mind and couldn't possibly be bothered with chitchat.

Draco's grey eyes narrowed.

"What's this?" he demanded, tugging at the dragon.

Harry's emerald eyes snapped back to him, glittering fiercely. He tugged his dragon back.

The two boys glared at each other, the unfortunate toy dragon stretched between them. Draco's eyes narrowed further, and Harry met his gaze evenly.

There was a long, tense silence as the children stared at each other. Finally, Draco released his grip on the dragon, smiling slightly. He turned to the adults, who were still watching.

"Yes," the little boy said imperiously. "I rather like him."

Lucius chuckled and Severus rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you take him home with you, then," he groused grumpily. Draco's eyes widened with interest and he turned to his father.

"Oh, father. May we?"

Lucius's face had a thoughtful expression as he studied Harry that made Severus feel uneasy.

"Dumbledore wouldn't allow it," he said tautly. Lucius gave a small smile.

"No doubt he would disapprove," he agreed. "And yet…he gave him to you."

Severus's frown deepened. "Temporarily, I assure you. Until a proper family of the light is found to cater to his every whim, of which I'm sure there will be plenty."

Lucius chuckled, still watching Harry, who stared right back. "Still," he mused. "Wouldn't hurt to put in an application for his adoption. The Malfoy name does hold some prestige, after all."

Severus scowled.

"Why doesn't he speak, Severus?" Lucius asked abruptly, turning back to the Potions Master.

"He has had a…traumatic childhood thus far," Severus said carefully.

Lucius arched an elegant golden brow. "The muggles harmed him?"

Severus merely tapped his long fingers on the table.

Lucius was outraged. "How dare common muggles mistreat a wizarding child?"

They both looked back at Harry, who was being tugged out of his chair by Draco. The blonde child was chattering on and on about Quidditch or some nonsense, not caring that his newfound friend made no reply.

"I don't know how to care for a child," Severus admitted quietly. "Especially not this one."

Lucius nodded in sympathy. "He certainly has the Potter look, doesn't he?"

Severus made no response.

"Well, my friend, I'm sure Cissy will adore taking him out shopping. He needs a proper wardrobe, after all, befitting his status."

Severus nodded curtly. "That would be appreciated. Albus has given me the key to his vault, to cover expenses."

Lucius waved a hand airily. "Oh, let me cover it. It's no trouble. After all, he is the Boy-Who-Saved-Us-All." He gave a rather tight smile.

Severus shifted uneasily.

"Indeed," he murmured, his troubled black eyes going back to the two children.

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The waiting room in the pediatric wing of St. Mungo's was crowded, filled with whiny, feverish, clingy little children. Severus sat stiffly in a throne-shaped chair, looking distinctly out of place in his billowing black robes among the scattered toys and colorful walls.

Harry perched next to him in a chair shaped like a mushroom, his wide-eyed gaze following the other children and their parents.

Severus had brought Harry here at Albus's urging.

"He needs a check-up, my boy," Albus had insisted. "And you ought to speak to a Mind Healer about the muteness. We can't have him growing up unnatural, now can we?"

And so Severus found himself shooting scathing looks at nearby screaming children and trying not to breathe in the numerous germs he was positive were floating through the air.

"Potter, Harry?"

Severus stood up, striding toward the pretty doctor who held the door to the exam rooms open for him. Harry trotted along behind him, clutching his dragon. The doctor smiled down at him as she led them to a nearby room.

"Alright," she said. "I am Melissa Robitille, and I'm your doctor. You must be Harry. And you are?"

"Severus Snape," he replied gruffly.

"Okay then, Mr. Snape. You may sit over there while I examine our young friend here." She gestured toward a squashy purple armchair in the corner, which Severus sank into gingerly.

"Can you hop up on here for me, Harry?" Dr. Robitille asked, patting the metal surface of the examination table. Harry eyed her uncertainly.

"It's okay," she assured him, smiling kindly at him. "I just want to look at you. You may bring your friend up as well."

Harry hesitated for a moment before plopping his dragon on the table and scrambling up himself.

"Good boy!" the doctor praised, drawing her wand. She ran several diagnostic tests, occasionally jotting down notes on her clipboard.

"You're doing great, Harry," she said, removing his scratched glasses and shooting Severus a mildly reproving look. He flushed. He had meant to repair them.

She ran several tests on the boy's eyes before tapping her wand to the glasses and returning them to him, shining and scratch-free.

"I've adjusted his prescription," she said, glancing at Severus. "I don't know how he managed to see at all with those."

Harry blinked his slightly larger green eyes behind the lenses, looking around in amazement.

"Now, overall he's underweight and malnourished. I can tell he's had several nutrition potions lately, so keep that up. Plenty of fruit and veggies in his diet, glasses of milk with every meal, that sort of thing. He has several old bone injuries that failed to heal properly, and he will need some physical therapy to help remedy those. Any questions?"

Severus nodded stiffly. "What do you make of his silence?"

Dr. Robitille eyed Harry thoughtfully. "Based on his charts, I'd say he hasn't had an easy time of it, has he?"

Severus shook his head grimly.

"I'll refer you to a friend of mine who specializes in child psychology. She may want to set up some sessions with him and see if she can get to the root of the matter."

Severus nodded again.

"However," the doctor said, casting a small smile at Harry, "maybe he just has nothing to say."

Severus and Harry left the hospital several minutes later, Harry sucking on a lolly and his dragon sporting a new color-changing bandage on its arm.

Severus breathed a sigh of relief at escaping the wretched place, glancing down at the card he held in his hand for the child psychologist. Harry had an appointment for next week.

With a short shake of his head, Severus grabbed the little boy's hand and Apparated home.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Tighten your seatbelts, guys. This story is going to be long. Thanks for reviewing, favoriting, following, and reading! If you have any suggestions for the story, anything you would like to happen, if you would like to make a cameo appearance, or if you have a favorite character you'd like to have thrown into the plot, let me know in a review. I plan on taking Harry all the way to his first year of Hogwarts, so we have six years to go. I promise it will start to pick up soon, and little Harry is about to make a turning point. Also, I do not own __The Ugly Duckling._

A few days after his St. Mungo's visit, Harry clambered out of bed, rubbing his eyes with a fist. His face was flushed with sleep and his curls a tangled black mess. He grabbed his dragon and quietly made his way to the kitchen, stopping dead when his eyes fell upon the table.

For the last month, breakfast had been fairly consistent. There was always porridge, toast, eggs, and milk. But today, in front of Harry's chair, was a steaming plate of French toast and strawberries.

Harry blinked, looking toward Severus, who stared intently at his paper, ignoring the child. The back of his neck was a dark red.

Hesitantly, Harry pulled out his chair and climbed into it, arranging his dragon in the seat beside him. He looked at the French toast doubtfully, casting a wary look at Severus.

Severus cleared his throat. "I have been duly informed," he said drily, "that today is your birthday. As such, it was strongly…suggested…that I rot your teeth with sweets."

Harry's brow furrowed. Severus sighed impatiently.

"Well, go on. Eat, for Merlin's sake. Narcissa and Draco will be picking you up in an hour to take you shopping, and you will be at least somewhat presentable."

Harry slowly picked up his fork, darting cautious glances toward Severus. He took a bite of his French toast, and his eyes widened with delight. Soon, his plate was clean and his glass of milk empty.

"To the bath, then," Severus ordered curtly, taking the plates to the sink.

Within an hour Harry was scrubbed pink, a brush ran through his tangles. He had been ordered to brush his teeth twice, as Severus was sure he would be plied with more sweets over the course of the day. Finally, dressed in some Transfigured robes, Harry was handed off to Narcissa Malfoy, and Severus went to his study with a relieved look on his face.

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"No, darling. Not the red, they look simply horrid. Try the green, that's a dear."

Narcissa Malfoy studied the small child critically. He was pitifully underweight, practically looking like a waif next to Draco, though they were the same age. His pretty eyes showed suspicion, and sudden movements made him flinch. What anybody was thinking giving a child like this to Severus Snape, confirmed bachelor and least-paternal man ever, second only to Argus Filch, Narcissa didn't know.

"Mother," Draco said while helping Harry adorn his dragon with its own set of black robes, "May we go to the Quidditch store next? Harry doesn't know what Quidditch is, can you believe that?" Her son's eyes were wide in horror at the thought of growing up without his favorite sport. Narcissa smiled benignly.

"Perhaps," she replied. "It's Harry's birthday, though, so only if he wants."

Draco turned pleading eyes to Harry, who looked up at Narcissa in puzzlement. She knelt down beside him, smoothing down his unruly hair.

"Well, dear?" she asked in her rich voice. "Would you like to go look at Quidditch supplies?"

Harry looked back at Draco, who nodded. Harry nodded at Narcissa. Draco cheered.

"Very well," she said, standing up. "After lunch we shall."

She took Harry's hand on one side and Draco's on the other, and the trio made their way to lunch.

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"Have you had any luck finding the boy a home?" Severus asked, filling a glass with brandy.

Albus Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon spectacles from where he was perched on the leather couch in Severus's study.

"The Ministry has received a great many applications," he replied carefully. "Including a rather surprising one from the Malfoys, an enthusiastic one from the Weasley's, and a heart-warming one from Hagrid."

Severus had a sudden mental image of Harry roaming around the Forbidden Forest in a loincloth before getting eating by an Acromantula.

"Of course," Dumbledore continued, "we must be sure to place him in the perfect home, and that takes time, does it not?"

Severus scowled. "I do not want him here much longer, Albus."

Albus raised a bushy white brow. "Is he misbehaving?"

Severus sneered. "He is like a shadow. Silent. Carries that blasted dragon Minerva made him around. I just do not like children, Albus. Especially the children of my worst enemies!"

Albus heaved a great sigh. "You still blame the boy for his father's past transgressions, then?"

Severus had an image of Harry standing in the yard, storm raging around him.

"Blood breeds true," he said, but with much less bite.

"Be it as such," Albus said. "You must file with the Ministry for temporary custody."

Severus choked on his brandy. "Absolutely not. I don't want him, Albus!"

"Temporary," the headmaster soothed. "Merely temporary. If not, the Ministry is liable to give him to the Malfoys. Money speaks, remember, and Harry needs to be on the side of light. It is his destiny."

Severus rolled his eyes, pouring himself more brandy.

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Harry had never had such a day in his life. Mrs. Malfoy had taken him and Draco to what felt like hundreds of shops. She had bought him an entire new wardrobe, new boots, toys, and books. Harry had been hesitant when told to choose some books. Narcissa had glanced at him, brow raised.

"Why, can you not read?" she asked incredulously.

Harry reddened miserably.

"Well," she said, regaining her composure. "Not a problem, I'm sure. Severus ought to be able to teach you. It is his job, after all." She gave a rather wicked smile. "Go on, choose whatever strikes your fancy."

Harry had chosen a picture book with a green dragon much like his own on the cover, a book about Quidditch at Draco's insistence, and a wizarding version of the muggle story The Ugly Duckling. 

Laden down with bags, his tummy full of good food and ice cream, Harry allowed Narcissa to escort him back to Severus's house in Spinner's End,

His eyes were drooping as he heard Narcissa give Severus a curt order to teach him to read, and before he knew it he was curled up on the couch, asleep.

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_"That cannot be done, my lady," replied the Mother-Duck. "It is not pretty, but it has a really good disposition, and swims as well as any other; yes, I may even say it, swims better. I think it will grow up pretty, and become smaller in time; it has lain too long in the egg, and therefore is not properly shaped." And then she pinched it in the neck, and smoothed its feathers. "Moreover it is a drake," she said, "and therefore it is not of so much consequence. I think he will be very strong: he makes his way already."__  
__"The other ducklings are graceful enough," said the old Duck. "Make yourself at home; and if you find an eel`s head, you may bring it to me."__  
__And now they were at home. But the poor Duckling which had crept last out of the egg, and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and jeered, as much by the ducks as by the chickens.__" _

Harry listened raptly to Severus's smooth voice as he read the story. His emerald eyes roved over the brightly colored moving illustrations. He reached out a finger and stroked the ugly duckling softly.

"_Then the young bird felt that his wings were strong, as he flapped them against his sides, and rose high into the air. They bore him onwards, until he found himself in a large garden, before he well knew how it had happened. The apple-trees were in full blossom, and the fragrant elders bent their long green branches down to the stream which wound round a smooth lawn. Everything looked beautiful, in the freshness of early spring. From a thicket close by came three beautiful white swans, rustling their feathers, and swimming lightly over the smooth water. The duckling remembered the lovely birds, and felt more strangely unhappy than ever._

'_I will fly to those royal birds,' he exclaimed, 'and they will kill me, because I am so ugly, and dare to approach them; but it does not matter: better be killed by them than pecked by the ducks, beaten by the hens, pushed about by the maiden who feeds the poultry, or starved with hunger in the winter.'_

_Then he flew to the water, and swam towards the beautiful swans. The moment they espied the stranger, they rushed to meet him with outstretched wings._

"_Kill me," said the poor bird; and he bent his head down to the surface of the water, and awaited death._

_But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a graceful and beautiful swan. To be born in a duck's nest, in a farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is hatched from a swan's egg. He now felt glad at having suffered sorrow and trouble, because it enabled him to enjoy so much better all the pleasure and happiness around him; for the great swans swam round the new-comer, and stroked his neck with their beaks, as a welcome."_

Harry's eyes were wide as he gently ran a finger down the now-beautiful swan's image.

"He was lost," the child murmured. "But then he was found."

Severus Snape very nearly dropped the book. He stared at the little boy in shock, who was too enraptured with the picture book to notice. Quickly composing himself, Severus continued reading as though nothing had happened. Harry was silent the rest of the night, going to bed with the book and his dragon held tightly to his chest.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thanks to all the absolutely wonderful reviews. You guys are great. In gratitude, I present to you a sweet little chapter. Thanks again, guys! Oh, I still don't own Harry Potter of The Ugly Duckling._

"**DEATH EATER GRANTED TEMPORARILY GUARDIANSHIP OF BOY-WHO-LIVED. IS THERE A NEW DARK LORD IN THE MAKING?"**

Severus scowled at the headline blaring from the front page of the Daily Prophet. The picture accompanying it showed a grim-faced Severus leaving the Ministry building, clutching a folder in one hand. Just what he needed before starting a new term at Hogwarts, he groused to himself, tossing the paper aside.

Severus, and Harry, would be leaving for Hogwarts in the afternoon for the beginning of the year feast. Severus had argued endlessly with the headmaster as to what to do with Harry during the school year, and it was finally decided that he would be taken to Hogwarts and put in the care of the house elves until a proper tutor could be found for him.

And so Severus found himself grudgingly holding Harry Potter's hand as they Apparated to Hogsmeade.

Harry was wide-eyed as he looked around the wizarding village with interest. Older students laughed and ran through the streets, stocking up on sweets and Merlin knows what else to torment their teachers with at school. Severus scowled fiercely at the ones who dared make eye contact or look curiously at the child clutching the feared Potions Master's hand.

He strode purposefully through the village, his robes billowing behind him. Harry trotted behind, struggling to keep up, his dragon and picture book tucked under his arm. The late summer breeze tousled his inky curls, and his cheeks were rosy with the fresh air. He had on emerald green robes that made his eyes bright and his little black boots were polished to perfection.

They pushed through the Hogwarts gates, Harry stopping in his tracks to look at the castle in awe. Severus impatiently tugged his hand, and stumbling, Harry continued following him, his eyes roaming over the thick pine trees of the Forbidden Forest and the rippling waters of the lake. His mouth opened a bit in wonder as a long silver tentacle waved lazily over the water, and he clutched his dragon and book a bit closer. Severus glided up the stone steps and pushed the heavy doors to the school open , ushering the little boy inside.

Harry had never seen a place so big and so grand as Hogwarts castle. He nearly gave himself whiplash trying to look at everything at once as Severus dragged him down some stone stairs and into the drafty dungeons. They went through a polished oak door and stopped in front of a portrait of a tall, elegant man with a large snake draped casually over his neck like a scarf.

"Enter," Severus said curtly, and the man raised a dark brow in interest at Harry before the portrait swung open. Harry followed Severus through and found himself in a sitting room. A fire crackled merrily and a tray containing two steaming mugs was positioned on a wooden table by two green armchairs.

"Kimmi!" Severus bellowed. There was a small _pop _and a small, strange creature squeaked into existence.

"Master Snape be calling for Kimmi, sir?"

Harry gaped at this strange being, moving behind Severus slightly.

"I must attend the welcoming feast," Severus said, looking less than pleased at the idea. "The boy here will need somebody to mind him now and during classes until the esteemed headmaster manages to find him a tutor."

Harry's eyes became shuttered at the phrase "the boy", and he looked down at the stone floor miserably. Severus didn't notice.

"Oh yes sir, Kimmi would be most pleased to watch the young master, sir!" the elf chirped, curtseying.

"Behave," Severus growled the child, who made no reply.

With a scoff, he turned and strode out of the rooms, the portrait swinging shut behind him.

Kimmi peered curiously at the little boy.

"I is Kimmi," she said, smiling a rather toothy smile.

Harry clutched his dragon and book closer, still staring at the ground.

"Would young master like to have a bite to eat?"

The little boy was silent. Kimmi frowned in concern.

"Does the little master feel well, sir? Shall Kimmi send for Mistress Pomfrey?"

Harry finally looked up, his green eyes meeting the elf's large brown ones. He shook his head, biting his lip.

"Well, then, what would young master like to do?"

The child hopped up in one of the armchairs, staring at his picture book. Kimmi's face brightened.

"Would little master like Kimmi to reads to him?"

Harry looked up hopefully, and Kimmi smiled, snapping her fingers. The chair expanded into a loveseat, and the elf climbed up at sat next to Harry. They were very nearly the same size. She reached for the book, which Harry handed to her. Turning to the first page, she began reading in a squeaky voice, her finger on the words she was speaking, Harry's eyes following them keenly.

"_It was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looking beautiful…"_

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"Is it true?" Pomona Sprout asked, her hat quivering on her head. "Are you really Harry Potter's guardian?"

Severus gritted his teeth. "Not by choice, I assure you."

"Oh come now," Albus interjected merrily, "you are doing a splendid job, my boy."

"I can't imagine Severus with a child," Filius Flitwick chortled, shooting a teasing glance toward the scowling potions professor.

"How is Harry getting along, Severus?" Minerva asked in concern.

"He's still the Boy-Who-Lived, don't worry. I haven't harmed your precious beacon of hope."

"Now, Severus, really!" sniffed Minerva disapprovingly. "There's no need for such an attitude."

"Young Harry will be spending every Tuesday and Thursday with the Weasleys, Severus," Albus said serenely, taking a bite of shepherd's pie. "Molly will be tutoring him with her own young ones."

"Oh joy," Severus sneered. "Training him up to be a proper Gryffindor already, are you?"

Albus looked mildly amused. "Both of his parents were Gryffindors, Severus. Where else would the lad be?"

The dour Potions Master merely rolled his eyes.

"I heard the Malfoys are trying to adopt him," Pomona said worriedly.

"That family has been dark long as I can remember," Filius said, taking a swig of pumpkin juice.

"They are far more self-serving than dark," Severus corrected in a silky voice. "They go toward the ones most likely to bolster their name the most."

"And adopting Harry Potter would certainly get them the desired esteem," Minerva said darkly.

"Now, now," Albus said soothingly, "No applicants have been interviewed as of yet. There is due process, you know. Background checks, references, that sort of thing."

Hagrid looked faintly disappointed at that.

"If you're all done fawning over the hero of the light," Severus said snarkily, but the others ignored him as they continued musing over the fate of the little boy in the dungeons.

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Harry watched the Weasley children apprehensively. They were a loud, rowdy bunch. Harry had learned that two of the older brothers, Bill and Charlie, attended Hogwarts and were in Severus's potions class. They didn't seem to have a very high opinion of his guardian.

"They say he is a greasy git," Ron, the youngest brother, confided to Harry, confidant the quiet boy wouldn't alert his mother to his bad language.

Harry's brow furrowed and he clutched his book and dragon tighter.

"Children!" Mrs. Weasley called, coming to the door and wiping her hands on her flowered apron. "Come in for your lessons now. You too Harry, there's a good little lad."

The Weasley children and Harry trooped into the kitchen and sat clustered around the worn kitchen table. The older children, Percy and the twins, Fred and George, all got out books and parchment and began writing. Ron was assigned the task of reading about magical creatures and researching three that inhabited Britain, and Harry and the youngest child, Ginny, were sat down by Mrs. Weasley to learn their letters. Harry felt very ashamed to be grouped with Ginny, for though he thought she was quite nice, she was a whole year younger than him and still a baby. He wished he could be looking at the book of magical creatures with Ron.

"Here you are, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said, handing Harry a quill and showing him how to old it. "Let's practice your letters, shall we?"

Harry put the quill to the parchment and the ink spread into a large blot. He scowled, dropping the quill. Mrs. Weasley frowned.

"Come now, dear. Don't be difficult. Look at how well Ginny's doing."

Harry was incensed. If little four year old Ginerva Weasley could write her letters, then so could he!

By the end of the afternoon, Harry had the alphabet and the use of a quill perfectly mastered. Mrs. Weasley smiled proudly at him, and he flushed, unaccustomed to praise. He listened with faint jealousy as Ron told his mother all about the creatures he had researched. There was a tug on his sleeve.

"Good job, Harry!" Ginny said, her brown eyes sparkling. Harry shifted uncomfortably, moving away from her touch. A look of hurt crossed her little face, and Harry felt a bit bad. He offered her his book. She took it curiously.

"Mummy," she said, "can we read Harry's book?"

Mrs. Weasley bustled over and peered down at the story. "Oh, that one's a classic. Is it your favorite, Harry dear?"

Harry nodded vigorously.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh well," she sighed gustily, sinking into a chair. "It's a shame my poor eyes aren't what they used to be. I'm afraid I just can't read aloud like I used to."

A look of disappointment crossed the little boy's face.

"However," Mrs. Weasley said thoughtfully, and Harry's emerald eyes snapped back to her. "Little Ginny is very good at reading, you know. Only four years old," she added conspiratorially, "and already she can read out loud."

Harry frowned, glancing toward Ginny, whose cheeks were tinged pink with her mother's praise.

"So, Ginny, why don't you show Harry how well you can read?"

Harry scowled, snatching his book back from the little redheaded girl. Her face dropped.

"Oh, well," Mrs Weasley said. "I suppose the others didn't want to hear the story."

Ron looked mildly disappointed, and Harry blushed. He bit his lip, staring at the book.

"Unless…" that crafty mother said softly. "Unless….you want to read it to us?"

Ginny looked at Harry hopefully, and Ron nodded encouragingly. "Come on, Harry, I want to hear it!"

Percy, catching on to his mother's charade, said a bit pompously, "Now, Ron. Not everyone can read out loud. It takes skill."

Harry glared at the older redheaded boy, who met his gaze evenly.

"Ah, don't feel bad," Fred said, patting Harry on the back. He flinched away from the touch.

"Yeah, it's okay if you don't know how to read! You are still little, after all," George added comfortingly.

Harry's brow furrowed as he scowled fiercely at the older boys. He did too know how to read!

"Aw," Ron said in disgust, turning away. "He can't do it."

That was it for young Harry Potter. His cheeks bright with anger, he stomped over to a chair, yanking it out and climbing up onto it. He glared menacingly at the other children, and they all crowded around. Mrs. Weasley hid a smile and sat back, taking out her knitting and listening as a young, soft, uncertain voice floated through the now silent kitchen.

"_It was lovely summer weather in the country, and the…the golden corn, the green oats, and the…the… hay-haystacks piled up in the mea…mead..meadows looking beautiful…"_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: A huge thank you to all my reviewers and anybody who has favorited or followed this story. This is just the beginning, I expect this to be a pretty long novel. If you have any suggestions or any characters you would like to see, let me know. Once again, thanks!_

"Why?" Harry asked, cocking his head.

Severus scowled. "Why what?"

"Why do I gotta takes more potion?"

Severus sneered. "You must get your grasp of the English language from your father. As to why you _must _take more _potion, _it is because you are still pitifully scrawny for your age."

Harry scowled at the offending laced pumpkin juice. Severus rolled his eyes heavenward, rubbing his temples.

"I don't like it."

"And I liked you infinitely better when you didn't speak."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Severus, who looked at him with narrowed, glittering eyes. Harry gulped, hurriedly drinking his juice. Severus smirked.

"Knock, knock," a sinfully cheerful voice said, precluding Albus Dumbledore's entrance into Severus's private rooms.

"Tell me," Severus asked silkily, "what the use of having a portrait guard the door if it ISN'T GOING TO DO ITS ONLY BLOODY JOB!"

Albus merely smiled, winking at Harry. "Our Severus isn't a morning person, I'm afraid."

"I know. He's real grouchy," Harry replied, poking at his eggs sulkily. Severus glared at the child.

"Glad to finally hear your voice, my boy," Albus said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, He squirmed away from the contact.

"I, for one, am not nearly as overjoyed," Severus muttered derisively.

"That's 'cuz you is never happy," Harry informed him, his green eyes solemn behind his round glasses.

Severus looked like he swallowed a toad. The headmaster chuckled, and then sobered.

"I've just come to inform you, Severus, that the Malfoys have been granted an interview for potential custody."

Severus shot the listening little boy a deadly glare. "Go to your room, Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"NOW."

Making a face, the child picked up his book and dragon and stomped down the hall. There was the sound of a door closing.

"I will never forgive Molly Weasley," Severus growled.

Albus chuckled softly. "She did what none of us could do, my boy. All Harry needed, it appears, was a nudge in the right direction."

Severus merely shook his head.

"I tried to delay the Malfoy hearing, but alas, it was already set by the Minister," the headmaster said, sinking into Harry's recently vacated chair.

Severus tapped his long fingers on the table's surface, thoughtful. "Would them getting custody truly be a bad ting, Albus?"

Dumbledore peered gravely at Severus. "Harry must go to a light family, or someone I am close to. You know this. The Malfoys, I am afraid, are not acceptable."

"Why not just hand him over to the Weasleys? After all, he apparently thrives there."

Albus sighed. "Their application was rejected due to the strict financial requirements for adopting a wizarding child. Added to that, the committee for the welfare of children believed that with so many other children, Harry wouldn't get the one on one attention he so clearly needs."

"Ah," Severus said, lip curling. "They don't want their hero growing up in ginger poverty."

The headmaster ignored that comment. "Severus…"

Severus's face became stone. "No."

"But, my boy…"

"I said no, Albus!" Severus growled, standing up. With a sharp snap of his fingers Kimmi appeared and began to clear away the breakfast dishes.

"It is what Lily would want…"

Severus whirled on the older man, his obsidian eyes blazing. "Do NOT presume to know what Lily would have wanted. After all, were YOU not the one to leave him with that bloody cruel MUGGLE sister of hers to begin with? We wouldn't be having this discussion if YOU had placed him with a proper family TO BEGIN WITH!"

Albus sighed, looking downcast. "It was the best place to put him at the time, Severus, you know that."

Severus snorted, looking down on the headmaster disdainfully.

"He is not such a bad child," Albus said softly. "He learns fast, and he is quiet."

"_Was _quiet," Severus corrected stiffly. "Now he's like a bloody magpie."

"Would you at least consider it?"

"No." The Potion Master's voice was soft, but firm. "I have no desire to become a parent, Albus, and especially not to…him."

Albus met his eyes squarely, and Severus felt the wave of power the wizard excluded as he stood up. "I am afraid, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, but with an edgy undercurrent, "that I will see Harry placed back with his muggle relatives before he gets sent to a family as unpredictable as the Malfoys."

"You would rather the boy get abused than be in the care of a family _not under your control, _you mean," Severus spat, his face close to the headmaster's. Albus said nothing, merely held his gaze for a long moment. The air crackled with power, and Kimmi stood to the side, wringing her little hands in dismay.

Severus finally looked away. "They would never place the child with proven abusers."

"Ah," Albus said softly, "But has it been proven? No charges were filed, after all…"

"My memories would be more than adequate," Severus snarled.

"An isolated event. Things happen, after all."

Severus sank back into his chair wearily.

"I will never like him, old man. He will never get any sort of fatherly affection from me."

"Perhaps," the headmaster said gently, "that is for the best. After all, Harry Potter is a child of prophecy. He must be trained to defeat Voldemort, for he is the only one who can. Fatherly affection might, in the long run, merely hinder him."

Severus was silent.

"You are the best choice precisely because of that," Albus Dumbledore said softly.

"Fine," Severus said finally, defeated. "I'll submit my application by the end of the week."

"Tomorrow," Albus said, his voice firm.

Severus glared at him.

"Really, my boy, the sooner the better."

Severus nodded curtly, his jaw clenched. "Tomorrow, then," he bit out.

The somberness disappeared from the headmaster's face in an instant and he beamed brightly, the genial grandfather again. "Very good. Lily would indeed be proud of you, my boy."

Severus felt hot anger stirring inside him as he watched the older wizard leave. Resentment at being manipulated by his guilt burned fiery hot.

"Is I going to be leaving?" a small voice asked timidly from the hallway. Severus took a deep breath.

"Go take a bath."

"But…"

"Potter, go NOW!" Severus roared.

Fear flashed through the emerald eyes as the boy scampered down the hallway. Severus rubbed his temple wearily.

"Why me, Lily?" he beseeched the empty kitchen in anger and despair. "Why me? I can't do this. I'm only going to ruin him. I can't raise James Potter's son. I can't. Not even for you."

With a sigh, he stood back up and strode out of the kitchen, not noticing the faint smell of honeysuckle lingering behind him.

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Severus breathed out a sigh, putting down his aching hand. He was halfway through grading his fifth year class's essays, and he was dismayed to reconfirm that they were indeed as stupid as they looked. He gave the pile of parchment a disgusted look.

"Dunderheads," he muttered.

"What does that mean?" a small voice asked, and Severus very nearly jumped. He had forgotten Harry was sitting by his feet, reading his book to his dragon.

"It describes the general population," Severus replied testily.

"Even me?" the little boy asked, blinking owlishly up at him from behind his glasses.

"_Especially _you," Severus sneered.

Harry looked thoughtful, but before he could ask more there was a short knock at his classroom door and Minerva McGonagall entered.

"Evening, Severus," she nodded. "And hello, Mr. Potter. How are you today?"

"I'm a dunderhead," the child piped up happily, his smile showing off a gap where he had recently lost a baby tooth.

Severus smirked at Minerva's disapproving look.

"Indeed," she said shortly. "Severus, a word, if I may?"

Severus gave a long-suffering sigh, standing up and stretching his cramped back. "Do not touch anything," he warned the child. "Or my next assigned potion will require Essence of Potter."

Harry giggled, but Severus eyed him sternly until he nodded. With a sniff, the Potions Master followed his colleague out the classroom door.

"Is it true?" the older witch demanded at once.

"I don't presume to know what you are talking about, you daft woman," Severus said in disinterest.

"You're adopting Harry Potter?"

Severus's face looked like he just sucked a lemon, "So it would appear."

Minerva looked scandalized. "But…you'll be a terrible parent!" she exclaimed, aghast. At Severus's raised brow, she blushed.

'I'm sorry, Severus, but it's true. You haven't the tolerance or patience for a young boy."

"I quite agree," Severus drawled. "However, try explaining that to the…esteemed…headmaster of this…fine establishment,"

"I have!" she said forcefully. "He gave me some tripe about Harry being in good hands. No offense, of course," she added.

"None taken," Severus assured her.

"But…oh, that poor wee lad," the Transfiguration professor lamented, wringing her hands.

"Poor me," Severus corrected. She ignored him.

"Well, I hope you know what you are doing, Severus," she said finally, staring at him.

"That makes two of us," Severus muttered, grimacing as he heard a crash from inside his classroom.

"POTTER!" he roared, storming back into the room. Minerva watched him go worriedly, a strong sense of foreboding making her shiver. She hoped Severus figured out what he was doing before it was too late.


	9. Chapter 9

Severus breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of his fresh-brewed coffee. Today was Sunday, which meant he got to escape his simple-minded students and spend all day relaxing. Perhaps he would peruse some potions journals or order more ingredients. Severus took a sip of his steaming mug and closed his eyes in bliss. Yes, he loved his days off.

_Sniff._

A truly wretched sounding sneeze echoed through the kitchen, and Severus opened his eyes irritably to see one miserable looking Harry Potter standing before him, wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his snitch pajamas.

"Honestly, Potter," he said in disgust. "Have you no manners? For Merlin's sake, use a tissue!"

Harry peered up at him pathetically. "I don't feels good."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't, you idiot boy. I told you yesterday that rolling around in the mud with the Weasley brats in the rain was going to make you ill."

Harry looked downcast. "We were just having fun."

"Well, now you're paying the price," Severus said ruthlessly. The child sneezed again. With a grimace, Severus handed him a handkerchief before he could apply his sleeve again.

"Return to bed immediately," the Potions Master ordered, distaste clouding his face. "I have no desire to fall ill with your germs."

Harry nodded miserably, shuffling off to his room. Severus shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee before opening his paper.

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Severus closed his book with a snap, glancing at the ornate clock on his study mantle. Nearly supper time. He had spent a brilliantly quiet Sunday meandering about, catching up on reading and his post. Stretching, his returned the book to the shelf and made his way into the kitchen, where Kimmi was preparing dinner. He sat down at the table, his mood light. Kimmi placed a plate of prime rib in front of him and he took a bite, savoring the meat appreciatively. As he chewed, he noticed something amiss.

"Kimmi," he said, "where is the boy?"

Kimmi wrung her hands, looking distressed. "Young master be not feeling wells, sir."

Severus frowned. "He's still sick?"

"Oh yes," the house elf replied. "I offered to get Master Snape for him, but he said I's was not to bother you, sir."

Narrowing his eyes, Severus pushed back his chair and strode down the hall to Harry's room. He pushed open the door without knocking. The room was dark, and he could just make out a lump huddled under the covers on the bed. Impatiently, Severus flicked his wand, lighting a candle as he pulled back the blankets.

Harry was shivering, his cheeks rosy with fever and his hair soaked with sweat. Severus cursed.

"Potter," he said, shaking the child's damp shoulder. The boy mumbled incoherently, but did not awaken.

"Potter!" he said louder, firmly. "Wake up."

The boy didn't stir.

With an oath, Severus called for Kimmi. The elf popped into the room, looking at the sick child in dismay.

"Fetch me a vial of Pepper-Up potion from my stores," he ordered curtly. Kimmi bowed and disappeared, reappearing moments later with the requested vial as well as a basin of cool water and a soft washcloth. Severus accepted the potion, pouring it down Harry's throat. The little boy protested weakly, his eyes still clamped shut as steam began to drift out of his tiny ears.

Kimmi dabbed at his sweaty brow with the cool cloth, and Harry's face relaxed.

"Mummy," he whispered.

Severus reared back, staring down at the boy. His long, dark lashed rested against his flushed cheek.

"Mummy!" the child said again, tossing in his sleep.

Severus was shaken. Surely the lad was far too young to remember his mother? He stared at the little boy thoughtfully.

"Master Snape, sir, shalls I get Mistress Pomfrey?" Kimmi asked worriedly. Severus shook his head.

"No, Kimmi, that will be all. You make go," he said distractedly. The house elf curtsied, and with one last concerned look at the sleeping boy, she disappeared.

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Harry tossed and turned, his dreams strange and vivid. A red-eyed wisp of smoke drifted through the darkened trees of a far-away forest, malevolence spreading from it like a disease. Animals fled before the strange half-spirit, and plants withered. Harry gasped as it turned it's pupil-less red eyes toward him and a stabbing pain erupted in his forehead. He tried to run, but the forest was never-ending, the evil presence only a few feet behind him. He cried out, his little lungs burning. From behind him there drifted a high, cruel laugh.

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"Damn you, Potter," Severus growled, conjuring up a chair and sitting next to the child's bed. "You're such a bloody inconvenience. I have to revolve my life around you, and I never wanted you. I still don't want you. I wish you were anywhere but here, with me1"

The child whimpered, sweat beading his furrowed brow.

Severus frowned, dabbing the cloth hesitantly on the boy's forehead. The damp hair was pushed to the side and the child's famous scar was revealed, an inflamed jagged bolt. Severus frowned, lightly reaching out and tracing the scar. He gasped as an intense pain shot down his left arm. He fell backwards, the chair falling with a clatter. Severus paid it no mind as he grasped his arm, his face pale. Slowly he pushed up the loose black sleeve of his robes to reveal the source of the throbbing pain.

His dark mark.

His pulse quickened and he tugged the sleeve down shakily, looking at the sleeping child with an indiscernible expression. His black eyes fell upon the scar marring the young boy's otherwise smooth brow, and he narrowed his eyes in thought. There was something amiss with Potter's curse scar, and he would bet his life Albus Dumbledore knew what.

He scowled, righting the chair and sitting back down. He absolutely hated being manipulated, no matter what the cause. He had known from the beginning there were things Dumbledore wasn't telling him about Potter. His insistence that Severus adopt the boy had seemed desperate, the old man resorting to emotional blackmail, which he hadn't done since the era of Voldemort. Severus nearly growled out loud. What use was it to escape one puppet master only to be ensnared by another? His eyes fell back on the fitfully dozing child.

"Mummy…" the little boy whimpered, his tormented dreams playing out behind his eyes. "I want my mummy."

"I want her too," Severus whispered, pulling the blanket up over the child. "I want her too."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Thank you all for your reviews. I take everything you tell me into consideration, so if you have any suggestions or ideas be sure to let me know. As always, thank you to everyone who has read, followed, or favorited. Your support means worlds to me. The plot should be starting to pick up real soon, now that our favorite Potions Master seems to have been bullied into a few things. _

"Severus, I need to speak with you about Thomas Merryweather's detention," Minerva McGonagall said without preamble, striding into Severus's office.

Severus glared at her, taking another gulp of his brandy.

"It's absolutely ridiculous that you insist on scheduling all the Gryffindor detentions during Quidditch practice. It's a blatant abuse of power, Severus, and let me tell you…by Merlin, are you drunk?"

The Potions Master smiled bitterly. "Ten points to Gryffindor," he slurred sardonically, raising his glass in a mock toast.

Minerva looked absolutely scandalized. "It's five in the afternoon! What on earth could possibly make you think it would be acceptable to get sloshed in your office, where any student could walk in?"

"It's done," Severus said, taking another large gulp.

"What's done?" Minerva asked in concern.

"Filed the papers for Potter's adoption. With a little…persuasion from the Supreme Mugwump, it was pushed through sooner than expected."

Minerva's lips twitched, though her eyes remained stern. "You need to pull yourself together."

Severus scowled. "Is that all you've got to say, you heartless harpy? "

"Congratulations," Minerva replied briskly. "It's a boy."

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"Potter, what the hell are you wearing?" Severus asked, scowling at the little boy, who tugged on his too-short pants futilely, a look of shame on his face.

"My clothes?" Harry said tentatively. Severus rolled his eyes heavenward.

"Go put on some trousers that actually fit. I will not be seen with a common urchin. Pretend you have some breeding, for Merlin's sake."

"But, Sev'rus," the child protested. "Alls my clothes shrinked."

Severus glared at the boy. "What are you trying to say, you ignorant dunderhead?"

Kimmi the house elf stepped forward, her ears drooping. "Sirs, young master has outgrew his clothes, sir."

Severus sighed. "Always knew you were too big for your britches, Potter."

"Huh?"

"I suppose this means I get the rather dubious joy of taking you shopping."

"Maybe Missus Malfoy can take me again, and Draco?" Harry suggested hopefully.

"In France for the week," Severus said despondently. "Well, wait here while I retrieve your Gringotts key. Merlin knows my meager salary isn't going to sustain you if you persist in outgrowing all your clothes."

Harry nodded obediently, climbing up onto the couch and opening his book to read it to his dragon.

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"Albus," Severus called, knocking once before opening the ornate door to the headmaster's office.

"Ah, Severus!" the esteemed wizard said jovially. "Sit down, sit down. Lemon drop?"

Severus gingerly perched on a garish and almost offensively squishy green armchair, declining the offer of sweets.

"I need Potter's bank key," he said bluntly.

"Ah," Albus said. "I see."

"He is doing a tiresome job of growing, it seems," Severus continued doggedly.

"It just seems rather a shame to waste away his only inheritance," Albus said, popping a drop in his mouth.

"I'm quite certain Potter had a rather large family fortune, and I can't imagine he squandered it away so fast."

"Well," the headmaster said, "it is indeed true that James himself had a rather sizable inheritance. But you see, Severus, that money is needed for the war effort."

Severus stared at the old man. "Excuse me?"

"I have put a sizable chunk into a vault for Harry to use to get through school, and it is all he will need. I'm sure your pay is more than adequate to afford a few new robes."

"So," Severus said lowly, "What you are telling me is that you have taken it upon yourself to take Harry Potter's money from him?"

"My dear boy," Albus said calmly. "It's for the greater good. And really, giving a fortune to a child is sure to make the wealth go to his head."

Severus experienced a moment of deep shock. His mind felt muddy as the headmaster's words sunk in. And when it cleared, he was rather startled to find himself full of righteous rage, and for the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, too. Composing his face, he stood up smoothly, the only sign of his anger his dark eyes flashing. "Then we have nothing more to discuss."

Albus Dumbledore waved him away. "Yes, yes. Good day, my boy."

```````````````````````````````````````.`````````````````

Severus returned to Spinner's End, anger boiling within him. Harry watched him warily as he paced back and forth in his study. He turned dark eyes on the child, who hugged his dragon to his chest nervously. His thoughts were a muddled whirl of incoherent rage and righteous indignation. How dare Dumbledore pull this. How dare he take the rightful wealth away from an orphan child, away from Lily's orphaned child, and declare it for the "greater good"? It was absolutely infuriating. And as he thought that, he made himself a private Vow.

No matter what, he would protect this boy. No matter who his father was, no matter what it took, Harry Potter would not be manipulated by Albus Dumbledore. That, he thought grimly, was a promise. And as he thought that, there was a faint glow of blue light and a soft chime, like of tinkling bells.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: As usual, thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, and read. I read all your comments and take all your suggestions into consideration. I did have someone say the breaks were messing up the mobile format. It looked fine on my phone, is anyone else having that problem? The plot is picking up, and the story is just getting started. Thanks again, and read on!_

Harry looked around with wide eyes as Severus impatiently tugged him through the bank. Strange, fierce creatures (goblins, Severus had told him) were situated behind counters, counting out glimmering jewels and shining coins. They were lean with knife-sharp faces and fierce eyes, and Harry found himself keeping close to Severus, his emerald eyes watching the goblins warily.

"I need to access Mr. Harry Potter's family vault," Severus said as they stopped in front of an older, bored looking goblin, who peered down his long nose at Harry disinterestedly.

"Key, please."

Severus gritted his teeth in frustration. "Due to…certain circumstances, I do not have his key. I am, however, his legal guardian, and he is, unfortunately, the Potter heir."

The goblin adjusted his spectacles. "No key, no vault."

"Well, that's certainly a problem, then," Severus sneered. "I would like to speak to the director."

The goblin narrowed his eyes, his pointed fangs gleaming. "Too bad. He is busy."

"I'm sure," Severus said in a low voice. "But I'm also sure he's going to have some time for me."

Harry, uneasy with the tense exchange, tugged his little hand out of his guardian's rougher one, slipping away. Neither Severus nor the goblin noticed, both too intent in their battle of the wills.

He wandered around the counter, peering up curiously at all the goblins. He watched with interest as they measured and counted and tallied, and he slipped between the legs of brisk moving bank patrons. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a smaller goblin going through a plain wooden door behind the teller's counter. He cocked his head. Was that a little goblin, like he was a little boy? Coming to the door, he hesitated only briefly before slipping in and closing it behind him.

"Who are you?" a little voice asked.

Harry turned around to see the little goblin perched behind a large wooden desk, his tiny feet dangling down. Harry stared at him curiously, clutching his dragon closer.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Raiknok," the goblin replied, hopping down from behind the desk. The two young ones stared at each other in fascination, nose to nose.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I am learning how to read accounts," Raiknok replied. "My father is the director, and I am his heir, so I have to learn how everything works for when I become director."

"Oh," Harry said, suitably impressed. "Er….what's a director?"

"The director rules the goblin nation. He is the head of the bank as well."

"Wow," Harry said. "That sounds fun!"

The little goblin heaved a great sigh. "Well, it's not. It's boring! I want to be a warrior, not the director. "

Harry nodded sagely. "If you was a warrior, you could beat up bad guys."

Raiknok brightened. "Yeah, with my sword!"

Harry grinned. "I wish I had a sword!"

The goblin cocked his head. "Aren't you a wizard?"

Harry frowned. "I think so. I live in a magic school, anyway."

"So you can have a wand."

"Maybe when I'm older, Sev'rus says, if I'm not a dunderhead."

The goblin looked sad. "I wish I could have a wand."

"Why can't you?"

"'Cuz I'm a goblin."

Harry looked indignant. "That's stupid! When I get big, I'll let you use my wand."

Raiknok's eyes brightened. "And you can use my sword!"

"Wicked!

The goblin's eyes fell on the toy clutched in the little boy's arms. "What's that?"

Harry held to plush toy out. "It's my dragon. P'fessor McGonagll made it outta a pillow."

Raiknok admired the toy. "I know where there's a real dragon," he confided.

Harry's eyes widened. "Really?"

The goblin nodded, lowering his voice. "It guards the lower vaults."

"Wicked!' Harry said excitedly. "I wish I could see it!"

Raiknok smiled mischievously. "I know how to get there, if you want."

Harry bit his lip, uncertain. "I don't know…"

"He's really big. And he roars," the goblin added.

Harry's brow furrowed in thought, temptation in his eyes. "Will we get in trouble?"

"Nobody has to know," the young goblin assured the little boy.

Harry glanced at his dragon, which let out a puff of white smoke. "Okay!"

With a grin that exposed tiny pointed fangs, Raiknok gestured for Harry to follow him. They crept stealthily through the crowded, bustling main hall of the bank, and Harry saw Severus still arguing with the goblin teller. Reassured, he slipped through crowd after his new friend.

Raiknok led the wizarding child down a dark, damp rock tunnel to a rickety metal cart. He climbed in, gesturing for Harry to do the same. Harry crawled in after the goblin, looking at the cart nervously.

"Do not fear," the goblin child assured the boy. "My father taught me how to guide the vault carts."

Harry bit his lip, but nodded.

With a snap of Raiknok's long fingers, the cart began moving forward, gathering speed as it zoomed down the dim tunnels. Harry's hair whipped to and fro in the wind, and he laughed out loud in excitement, straining to see the vaults that were whizzing by. They went farther and farther down, past a roaring waterfall and endless caverns.

After what seemed like an eternity, the cart slowed and stopped. Riaknok hopped out nimbly, his black eyes shining with excitement.

"It's right over there," he whispered to the wizarding boy, pointing a narrow finger. Harry peered into the gloom with interest.

"I don't see anything," he whispered back, swiping his messy hair out of his face.

"Come on," the goblin child urged, creeping forward. They turned a corner and Harry gasped.

Lying in the musty, gloomy cavern was a colossal dragon. Scars crisscrossed its body, and its ragged wings were ink black. It appeared to be sleeping, the occasional puff of white smoke drifting from its nostrils.

"Just like my dragon!" Harry said excitedly, brandishing the toy.

Raiknok nodded happily, proud to have impressed his new friend. "It's been here for forever and ever."

"Does it ever get lonely?" Harry wondered, staring at the massive beast. Raiknok shrugged.

Harry frowned, suddenly feeling sad for the dragon. "Does he miss his mummy and daddy?"

The little goblin blinked. "Do dragons have mummys and daddys?"

"Of course they do!" Harry said, alarmed. "Don't they?" Tears came to his green eyes as he imagined the poor dragon growing up without parents.

"I think he was already a grown-up when he came here," Raiknok assured his friend, mystified by the boy's reaction.

Harry wiped away a tear. "You think?"

Raiknok nodded vigorously. "Yes, he was all grown up when my father caught him."

"That's good, then," Harry said, gazing at the forlorn creature.

"Yes," Raiknok said. "But we should probably go back. If my father finds out I'm not studying like I'm supposed to be, he'll be really mad."

Harry pictured Severus's angry face, nodding in agreement. The two turned to leave, but Harry's shoe got caught on a rock ledge and he stumbled, falling down.

"Ow!" he yelped loudly, clutching his bloodied knee.

The dragon blinked, opening its huge milky white eyes. It lumbered to its feet, giving a massive roar. Harry stumbled backwards in the dirt, his eyes wide with terror.

"Harry Potter!" the little goblin cried, grabbing his arm. "Run!"

Harry stumbled to his feet, sprinting back to the cart, dropping hid toy dragon in. He looked back and saw Raiknok trip over the same ledge he had.

"Raiknok!" he shouted, racing back to his friend. The dragon opened its mouth, exposing knife-sharp fangs the length of Harry's forearm. It inhaled, and Harry saw red and orange flames at the base of its throat. He threw himself in front of the goblin child, terror filling his young body.

"_A nocentibus protegat!_" a sudden voice bellowed, and a glowing green barrier appeared between the youngsters and the dragon. The dragon released its flames, and they hit the barrier with a clash of bright, vivid colors. The dragon let out a roar of rage. Abruptly, a sharp tug yanked Harry and Raiknok back, and Harry found himself staring up into the absolutely livid gaze of Severus Snape.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Second chapter today. Can you tell I am bored? Enjoy it, because I am going out of town tomorrow and won't have an update for you until Friday! Special thanks to all my reviewers, especially Man of Constant Sorrows, who has (unintentionally, I'm sure) spurred on several of these plot twists. Happy reading, everybody!_

Harry gulped, Looking up into Severus's furious face.

"_**What were you thinking?!**_" the Potions Master asked, positively quivering with rage. Harry flinched, stepping back.

"It was my fault, father," a small voice said, and Harry turned to see Riaknok standing before a very stern looking goblin. The goblin merely scowled down at his son, who swallowed hard. Then he directed his keen dark gaze to Harry.

"You were both fools to come down here," he said in a deep voice, shadows playing across the knife-sharp planes of his face. His voice crackled with power. Harry and Raiknok looked down, sheepishly.

"However…" the goblin continued, and Harry looked up again. "Never in my life have I seen a goblin child and a wizarding child playing together. And never in the history of my people has a wizard willing stepped in front of a goblin to protect him."

Harry dared to shoot a quick glance at Severus, who still looked angry but now also had a calculating gleam in his eyes as he watched the goblin speak.

"Do you know what you have done, child?" the goblin asked Harry, staring into his eyes. Harry shook his head.

"Speak, Potter," Severus growled.

"N-no, sir," Harry said nervously, biting his lip. "I just didn't want Raiknok to get hurt."

"Today, you and your guardian have saved my son from his own folly. As I am Ragnok, director of Gringotts and ruler of the Goblin Nation, he is Raiknok, my son and heir, prince of Goblins. And on this day, he, and the Nation, are in your debt."

"Perhaps," Severus interjected smoothly as the dragon gave another roar, shaking the walls of the cavern, "we ought to continue this discussion elsewhere."

Ragnok gave a curt nod, and they all stepped into the cart. Ragnok snapped his fingers, and they began the climb upwards. The cart Severus and the goblin director had taken trailed behind them. They rode in silence until they reached the main hall of the bank, and Ragnok strode purposefully through a huge oak door. Severus and Harry followed him, and the door closed behind them. Ragnok sat down behind a huge polished mahogany desk.

"Sit," he said. Harry and Severus obeyed. Raiknok stood by his father, his eyes downcast.

"Let us begin our discussion with the reason you visited my bank today," Ragnok said.

"I came to retrieve control of Harry Potter's family vault from Albus Dumbledore."

Ragnok looked thoughtful. "Have you asked him for the key?"

Severus nodded once. "He refused to give it to me."

"That is because he does have claim to it."

Severus scowled. "Excuse me?"

Ragnok put on a pair of glasses and opened a desk drawer, withdrawing a file, he flipped it open, reading.

"James and Lily Potter took an Oath upon becoming members of the Order of the Phoenix. It is an Oath all new members are required to make, one I am sure you yourself made. The Oath you took was 'I, Severus Snape, do hereby pledge myself to the Cause of Light. I promise to work toward the Greater Good in dispensing Justice against those who are allies of the Dark. I promise to give all I have to this Cause, in mind, body, and spirit, as long as I serve this, the noble Order of the Phoenix. I will do whatever is deemed necessary in helping the Light prevail. So mote it be.' "

He removed his glasses, looking levelly at Severus. "As the Oath Giver, you pledged this to Albus Dumbledore. What that means is you, like James and Lily Potter, pledged on your magic to do whatever Dumbledore deemed necessary to help the Order of the Phoenix. And after the Potters' deaths, Albus Dumbledore deemed the donation of their vaults necessary."

Severus felt a vein throbbing in his temple. "Bloody hell," he cursed.

"Dumbledore did take a substantial amount and put it in young Mr. Potter's trust vault to get him through his seven years of schooling, however."

Severus grimaced. "And then what? He makes it seem as though he isn't expecting Potter to do anything when he gets out of school. No money for apprenticeships, no money for muggle colleges…"

Ragnok's gaze sharpened. "Perhaps Albus Dumbledore has his own agenda for the boy."

The dark-eyed young man frowned, suspicion on his pale face. "He believes Potter is a child of prophecy."

"Ridiculous," Ragnok scoffed. "Prophecies are for fools. Every sensible being knows Fate can change on a whim."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "A prophecy is what got Lily and her blasted husband killed. And it was my fault. Their blood is on my hands, which is why I am raising their son. I will not allow a meddling old man to ruin Lily's child."

Harry looked up, uneasy. He wasn't sure exactly what the adults were talking about, but it made him feel sad and worried.

"Today Harry Potter became a friend of the Goblin Nation. We will not allow harm to befall the child. As a start, why don't we remove the muggle-repelling curse the boy has upon him?"

Severus blinked. "Pardon?"

Ragnok's eyes fell upon Harry, who squirmed under his sharp gaze.

"Your ward has a powerful curse placed upon him. It provokes repulsion and anger against his person by any muggle in constant direct contact with him. It makes other muggles avoid him as well."

A dangerous look gleamed in Severus's eyes. "Would this charm make muggles lock him in a cupboard and starve and beat him?"

Ragnok turned his dark gaze upon the man. "Yes. It would also make any other muggle witnessing such acts look away."

Severus clenched his fists. "Do you know the counter-curse?"

Ragnok snapped his fingers, and a steaming goblet appeared in front of Harry. The child picked it up and sniffed the contents, grimacing.

"Drink it," the goblin ordered.

Harry took a sip, his face screwed up in disgust. A sharp glare from Severus had him downing the concoction. He blinked as a strange feeling encased him. His arms and legs tingled as though ants were crawling up and down his body. Suddenly, his scar erupted in pain, and he screamed.

"Father, what's wrong with him?" Raiknok cried as Severus grabbed the thrashing boy. Ragnok leapt from his seat and helped Severus hold Harry down until the boy's cries of agony stopped. Blood trickled down his tear-stained face. Ragnok's eyes narrowed at the pulsing scar.

"What was that?" Severus growled, brushing a rough hand through Harry's damp inky curls.

"That was a potion meant to destroy any dark curses from the child's body," the goblin director replied, running a long finger down Harry's scar. "It would appear that the muggle-repelling curse wasn't the only darkness lurking inside Mr. Potter. His scar bears a dark residue inside it, one so powerful it fought against the potion…and won."

Severus frowned, drawing a trembling Harry closer to him. "Dark residue?"

Ragnok straightened, frowning. "I will have my healers research curse scars so we can determine exactly what is hiding behind your ward's eyes. In the meantime, keep me apprised of any activity in the scar."

"Potter," Severus said, looking down at the pale little boy. "Does your scar ever hurt?"

Harry sniffed, clutching his dragon. "Sometimes," he whispered. "When I have bad dreams."

The adults shared a somber frown, and Severus stood.

"I believe Potter has had quite enough excitement for one day," he said, shaking Ragnok's offered hand. "We will be in touch."

"Mr. Director, sir," Harry said as Severus guided him from the office. The goblin raised a brow.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Can Raiknok come play with me sometimes?"

Severus groaned. He disliked all children, regardless of race.

Ragnok's stern face softened as his lips twitched. "If it is acceptable to your guardian, he may."

Severus found two pairs of young eyes looking toward him hopefully. He sighed. "Perhaps he may come for tea on occasion."

The two children cheered.

"But," Severus added in malicious glee, "not anytime soon, because you are going to be scrubbing cauldrons for a very, very long time as a result of your idiocy today."

Harry groaned, and Severus smirked.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and to everyone who is following or has favorited. Here's a short chapter, but no worries, I'll post more tomorrow. Once again, thanks for reading. Stay awesome._

Severus surveyed the rather motley assortment of young ones in his dining room wild mild interest and open scorn. It had been several months since the Gringotts incident, and Harry was now off punishment. He had been begging and pleading and attempting to bribe Severus into letting him have his friends over for a visit for the last week. Severus had been very adamant in his intense dislike of anything messy, loud, and young, but had caved in when Minerva started casting stern looks his way as well.

As a result, young Ronald Weasley, his ginger hair a mess and his freckles abundant, was seated in his shabby robes next to a haughty looking, finely –garbed Draco Malfoy. Draco kept casting disgusted looks at the Weasley boy, who glared right back at him. Across from Ron and Draco was the little goblin child Raiknok, who looked intensely uncomfortable with the looks of morbid fascination the two unfamiliar wizarding children were giving him. Beside Raiknok sat Harry, oblivious to the tension and chattering a mile a minute while happily munching a warm peanut butter biscuit.

"Do you really eat people?" Ron suddenly blurted out, interrupting Harry's story about Hagrid's new pet Chimera. Draco cast a scornful look at the boy.

"Of course not," he said in contempt. "They eat muggles."

Harry turned a wide-eyed gaze to his goblin friend, who squirmed a bit in his seat. "You do?"

"No," Raiknok said, frowning. His sharp teeth poked out from his lips. "We eat dragon meat and vegetables and fruit and hippogriff. Not humans. Gross!"

"My father says your kind are nothing but money-hungry, greedy thieves," Draco said scornfully.

"Draco!" Harry said balefully. "That's a really mean thing to say!"

"Yeah," Ron agreed, glaring at the blonde boy. "Don't be a git, Malfoy."

Raiknok growled low in his throat. "How dare you insult me in that way? How dare you insult the goblin race to the Prince of Goblins?"

Draco blinked. "You're a prince?"

Raiknok bared his teeth in a feral snarl. "I am, and any insult to my people will not go unchallenged!"

Draco's brow furrowed in thought. "As in you will be a king one day?"

"King of Goblins and Director of Gringotts," the goblin child said proudly.

"Oh," the Malfoy heir said, taking a sip of tea. "I suppose you're all right then." He turned to Ron, who was shoving an entire biscuit in his mouth.

"You, on the other hand, are a filthy blood traitor…"

Severus groaned, choosing to retire to the quiet of his study rather than listen to childish squabbling any longer. A nod to Kimmi had the house elf assigned as babysitter.

Back in the blessed silence of his study, Severus sorted through his mail, pausing when he came to a heavy cream envelope embossed with gold. He opened the envelope and withdrew a thick card. His eyes widened slightly as he read the card. It was an invitation to a renowned potions convention in the south of France. Severus had, of course, heard of the convention but had never received an invite. It was long rumored that Nicholas Flamel himself attended the convention, seeking out the most skilled potioneers. And Severus Snape, by far the youngest Potions Master ever, was being asked to speak about a potion he was developing to help control werewolves during the full moon. It was a great honor.

Severus immediately pulled out a quill and wrote a reply in his elegant scrawl, his mind whirling at the possibilities such a trip presented. France was renowned for its alchemists, and where there were alchemists there were rare and exotic potion ingredients to be found. And, Severus thought wryly, a few days in the quiet dignity of France wouldn't be remiss.

His faint smile turned to irritation as he heard childish laughing from across the house. Potter. He would have to bring Potter with him. The idea of the little boy following him about and learning about potions wasn't as abhorrent to him as it should have been, but it did still take a good deal of shine off of the prospect.

Severus sighed as his thoughts turned to Lily's son. He had been dwelling a great deal on the muggle-repelling curse the boy had been under, and he had eventually admitted to himself that only one person could have, or would have, put it there. But try as he might, he couldn't fathom why Albus Dumbledore would deliberately make Harry Potter's muggle guardians hate him with such intensity.

And then there were Ragnok's suspicions about the child's scar, which were so terrible Severus didn't even dare think of them. The goblins were outraged that the child hadn't gotten immediate medical attention after surviving a killing curse, and Severus had been forced to agree. It was completely irresponsible of the headmaster to not only deny the infant a visit to the Healers, but then to put him in the care of the bumbling half-giant Hagrid to deliver, on a flying motorbike, to Lily's magic-hating sister.

Severus seriously doubted this was merely lack of foresight on Dumbledore's part. The older wizard was one of the shrewdest men he had ever know. A keen intelligence laid behind those clear blue eyes. No, Albus Dumbledore knew something about Harry Potter that he wasn't telling anybody, and Severus was determined to find out.

He winced as he heard a loud crash and more children's laughter. Putting on his most fearsome expression, he stormed from his study to the sitting room, where he found the four children, all so different from each other, laughing wildly as they played Exploding Snap. Draco's eyebrows were singed off and one of Harry's jet-black curls was smoldering as he blinked from behind soot-smudged glasses. Ron and Raiknok were fairly rolling on the carpet in hysteria together and Kimmi was hovering nearby smiling indulgently as she put out the small fire in Harry's hair.

And though Severus Snape billowed into the room in annoyance, threatening years upon years of gruesome future detentions for uncouth, noisy behavior, his dark eyes betrayed just the slightest bit of warmth.


	14. Chapter 14

Ragnok's office was completely silent as the director and Severus read the goblin Healers' report on Harry's curse scar. The quiet in the office was tense and nearly palpable.

"So what does this mean?" Severus finally asked in frustration, running a hand through his lank black hair. Ragnok looked up, his sharp face somber.

"Dark residue remains in your ward's scar. It almost appears to be a fragment."

"A fragment of what, exactly?" Severus growled, scowling at the papers.

"Of that we are not yet sure," Ragnok replied in a tight voice. "We have researchers combing through any records of curse wounds, but as of yet we have not found a report that matches Harry Potter's."

Severus blew out a breath, slumping in his chair.

"How long have you had the boy?" the goblin asked.

Severus thought for a moment. "Nearly eleven months," he said in surprise. He had almost gotten used to the annoying child being underfoot.

Ragnok nodded, making a notation on the Healer's report. "Any more pain in the scar?"

"Not that he has mentioned."

The director nodded, frowning. "Well, we will keep researching. I am certain the answer is lurking out there somewhere."

Severus nodded, leaning forward. "Ragnok, I was wondering if you had the Potters' wills."

The goblin eyed him with shrewd eyes. "It has taken you nearly a year to ask that, Severus."

The young man frowned. "It's been…hectic this past year."

Ragnok let out a dry chuckle. "I imagine. You went to being a bachelor, living alone in your dreary dungeon corridors, to the guardian of an active young boy."

"My chambers are hardly dreary," Severus sniffed. "However, you are correct in assuming my life has needed some adjusting. I have been thinking about the Oath and the Potters' vaults, and I was wondering if such a thing would override the Potters' wills. I am almost certain Lily would not have left all of her worldly belongings to Albus Dumbledore and none to her son."

Ragnok sighed, tapping his long fingers against the wood of the table. "You may be right, Severus. However, I have not brought the wills up for a very good reason."

"Which would be?"

The director gazed at Severus steadily. "Sirius Black."

Severus sputtered. "What the hell does that fool have to do with anything?"

"Lily and James' wills decree that Sirius Orion Black be present as the executor at the reading of their wills. They also decree that Mr. Black be the legal guardian of Harry Potter in the event of their demise."

"But Black is in Azkaban," Severus said impatiently. "Locked up for life for the betrayal of those two very people. How can he still have a claim to anything?"

The goblin leaned back, his spectacles gleaming. "When a life will is made, it is magically sealed to respond only to the terms of the said will. If a party that is supposed to be an executor or witness to a will is deemed unfit, whether by death or a guilty verdict and sentencing in a court of law, the magic automatically fades, allowing the next named individual to access the will. In the case of the Potters', this would be Remus Lupin."

Severus scowled darkly at the name. "And last I checked Black was severing time in Azkaban, SENTENCED to life in prison."

"Ah," the goblin said, leaning forward. "But without a guilty verdict."

The young man blinked. "What?"

"Sirius Black never received a trial and, therefore, never received a verdict. His sentencing was determined illegally, without due process and consideration. As a result, the binding magic on the wills is still in effect, and they cannot be read without Mr. Black's presence. Your guardianship of Harry is valid as long as Mr. Black is incarcerated."

Severus rubbed his temple, where he could feel a horrendous headache brewing. "So what you are saying is the only way Harry can reclaim his money from Dumbledore is if Black reads the will. However, if Black reads the will, he has due claim to dispute my custody over Potter."

The goblin nodded, leaning back.

"What a bloody mess," the Potions Master swore softly.

"Indeed," the director said. "What will you do?"

Severus thought. "Nothing, for the moment at least. I am attending a rather prestigious potions convention in France next week, and I need to concentrate on preparing for that. Perhaps after Potter and I return, we can sort through this problem with Black. If we can get him a trial, he will be found guilty and resentenced, which would make his claim on the wills null and void."

Ragnok nodded, standing up. "Until next time, then."

Severus also stood and bowed his head respectfully. "May your coffers be ever filled and your enemies struck down."

The goblin gave a rather feral smile. "Indeed, brother. Indeed."

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Harry bounced on the heels of his feet as he stared around in wide-eyed wonder. All around him, witches and wizards bustled past, all talking animatedly in French. The little boy tugged on Severus's hand.

"Are there gonna be real werewolves here, Sev'rus?"

The young man scowled. "More than likely."

"Wicked," the little boy breathed.

"If I am very lucky, one of them might gobble you up," Severus groused, but without vitriol.

Harry giggled. "No! I'd give him a tummy ache!"

"Indigestion, most likely," Severus muttered, leading Harry to the posh hotel where they would be staying. Harry gazed around the elegant lobby in interest as his guardian conferred with the pretty witch behind the counter, getting a small silver key.

"Don't dawdle," Severus snapped, ushering the little boy toward the silver lifts that would take them to their floor.

"Severus Snape?" a deep voice said from behind them. Severus froze, his grip tightening on Harry's small hand as he turned slowly.

"Yes?" he said impatiently.

Harry looked up at the stranger. His face was rugged, long and lean. A small golden goatee accentuated his sharp chin. His nose looked as though it had been broken before, and his shaggy golden hair hung to his shoulders. His eyes were piercing, a keen amber color.

"My name," the man said in a thick French accent, "is Adrien Barclay."

"Fascinating," Severus sneered, his hand gripping his wand within the folds of his black robes.

"I am here to hear your speech on your Wolfsbane potion. I have quite a vested interest in it."

Severus raised a dark brow. "Meaning you need to take it."

Adrien inclined his head. "You ought to know, monsieur, that I come from one of the most wealthy families in all of France. My family is directly related to royalty, and we are very influential. I was recruited nearly eight years ago by the one who calls himself Lord Voldemort, whose name alone is a sorry mockery of the French language. He wanted me to back him financially and influentially, and when I refused he set his favored pet Fenrir Greyback upon me. Perhaps you might remember, Severus Snape, seeing as you were also there?"

Severus paled, griping Harry's hand painfully. "What do you want?"

Adrien's golden eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before returning to Severus. "I want to back your potion, of course."

Severus frowned. "What do you hope to achieve from it, besides the obvious?"

Adrien gave a roguish grin. "That is a discussion for another time, friend."

"I am not your friend," Severus snapped. "However, perhaps you can help. Several ingredients I require are very rare and even more expensive…"

Adrien held up a hand. "Say no more. Compile a list of what you need, and I will make sure you have it. I look forward to hearing you speak tomorrow." He turned to leave.

"Hey," Harry called out. Adrien turned, an eyebrow cocked.

"Yes, child?" His golden eyes flicked to the lightning bolt scar partially hidden by the boy's messy curls, but he said nothing about it.

"Are you really a werewolf?"

Adrien smiled, showing slightly elongated canines. "Yes."

"Wow," Harry breathed in awe. "Are you gonna gobble me up? 'Cuz you might get indigestion, Sev'rus says."

There was a moment of utter silence before Adrien burst out laughing and Severus groaned in mortification, tugging the child toward the lifts and silently and grimly cursing the day Lily Potter decided not to use protection.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry squirmed impatiently as Severus tugged a comb futility through the boy's perpetually messy hair.

"Stay still," Severus ordered, frustrated as he attacked an errant curl.

"Ow!" Harry whined. "Sev'rus!"

"If you would just stay still," his guardian growled, finally tossing the comb down in defeat. "Fine, I suppose that's as good as you get. Pity you didn't get more of your mother's genes."

Harry cheered. "Are we gonna go now? Are you gonna tell everyone about your wolf potion?"

"Yes," Severus replied. "And as a keynote speaker, I really shouldn't be late. Come along."

Harry trotted after the young man as they exited the hotel and walked the few blocks to the convention center. Harry was fascinated that the muggles strolling by couldn't see it. It was so big! Once inside, Harry stared around in awe. A giant fountain adorned the middle of the main area, with intricate mermaids and sea nymphs carved into the smooth granite. The water that bubbled out of the mermaid and nymphs' hands turned various shades of luminescent, pearly colors. Severus led Harry past the fountain and a endless flight of stairs, turning through a winding maze of quiet, elegant corridors until they reached two polished wooden doors. A golden plague on the door proclaimed: _Keynote Speakers, Today at Two p.m._

"You will sit quietly," Severus said with a hand on the golden door handles, his dark eyes boring into the almost six year old's green ones. "You will not speak. You will not make a fuss."

"If I'm good, can we get some postcards for Draco and Ron and Raiknok?"

"Possibly," Severus replied, pushing open the door. A wave of chatter splashed over them as Severus placed Harry in a chair near the back of the room. The seats all formed a half-circle around a stage where a podium had been placed.

"Sit," Severus ordered, billowing up toward the stage. Harry scowled, already bored. He clutched his dragon and watched the people around him with interest, but all they were doing were talking quietly amongst themselves. Harry sighed, slumping down in his seat. After what seemed like an eternity, the talking trailed off and the lights dimmed. A small, portly French man took the podium and began a long speech about the art and intricacies of advanced potion making. Harry yawned as the man droned on and on. After the man came a woman, and after her came another man. Harry didn't understand what they were talking about and eventually tuned the words out. He sighed again, playing idly with his dragon.

All these people were talking for such a long time, and everyone was raptly listening. Nobody was paying attention to him. Harry remembered the fountain in the lobby and bit his lip. Surely Severus wouldn't notice if he just went downstairs to look at it and came right back? He peered through the dim auditorium, searching for his guardian, but it was too dark for him to see properly.

His mind made up, Harry slipped off his seat and through the thick wooden doors, entering the quiet corridor. He didn't notice the golden eyes following his every move. Happy at having made his escape, the child scampered through the silent corridors, admiring the paintings on the wall that watched him curiously. He found the stairs and skipped down them, grinning when he came to the fountain. He wandered over to the granite edge and carefully set his dragon down before climbing up and crouching on top of it, trailing his fingers through the shiny water.

He lost track of time, humming to himself and making small splashes in the water. Suddenly, a noise caught his attention. He looked up in time to see three men shove a slim, teenage boy down the stairs. The boy landed in a heap on the stone floor, blood trickling from his head. He stood up slowly, his dark amber eyes both fierce and fearful as the men approached.

"What's wrong, dog?" one of the men sneered in an American accent. "Lost your owner?"

"Yeah," another one laughed. "Have you had your rabies shot yet?"

The third one flicked his wand and a black collar appeared around the teenage boy's neck. The boy growled low in his throat.

"Shut up, beast," the American ordered, kicking the teen brutally in the side with his heavy boots. The boy whimpered in pain, and the men all laughed again.

"Hey!" Harry said indignantly, hopping off of the fountain ledge. "Leave him alone!"

The three men looked at Harry and laughed, and the child's blood began to boil.

"Oh, what have we here? A little kid?"

Harry scowled as he stepped forward, his little fists clenched.

"I said, leave him ALONE!"

The air began to crackle with a strange tension, and the teenager cast a wary look at the young child, cocking his head slightly.

"Or what?" the American man jeered. "Are you going to go tell your mommy? Stay out of this, kid. This beast would eat you in a heartbeat."

"I don't gots a mummy," Harry said, his emerald eyes flashing behind his glasses. "And he's not a beast, you are!"

The American stepped toward Harry threateningly. "Go away, brat. This doesn't concern you. Animals like this need to be put down." He spit on the teenage boy.

That was the breaking point for Harry. The air crackled as he gave a fierce cry and a burst of pure white light shot out, throwing the three men against the stairs. The light faded as they landed in a bloodied heap, groaning.

"Go away!" Harry shouted angrily. The men dragged themselves up, casting looks of disdain and unease at the child. Harry scowled, and the American man glared and raised his wand.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," a smooth voice came from the top of the stairs.

Adrien Barclay sauntered down the steps, his face hard and his golden gaze fearsome. He stopped in front of the teenage boy.

"Are you okay, Luc?"

The boy struggles to stand up, shame on his face as he tugged off the collar.

"Yes," he mumbled. Adrien turned to the men.

"You have until the count of three to disappear."

One of the men laughed. "And who's going to make us, dog?"

There was a soft rustling as several people stepped out of the shadows by the fountain and at the top of the stairs. They all circled the three men slowly, their wands drawn.

"We will," Adrien replied calmly.

With a dark scowl, the American nudged his friends and they edged out of the circle and through the main doors, muttering under their breaths. Once they were gone, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and turned as one to look at Harry, who shrank back a bit under their scrutiny.

"Harry Potter," Adrien said, crouching down in front to the child. "Thank you for aiding my brother, Luc. That was very brave of you."

Harry blushed, looking down. "They was being mean," he said softly.

"Indeed they were," Adrien said in his soothing French accent. "Do you know why they were being mean to Luc?"

Harry looked up uncertainly, his eyes darting to the slim boy in question. "'Cuz he's a werewolf?"

"Correct," Adrein said, smiling gently. "Some people don't like werewolves."

"But why?" Harry asked plaintively. "Sev'rus told me you don't really eat people very often."

There were a few quiet chuckles at that.

"We try not to," Adrien agreed wryly. "Some people just don't like anybody who is different."

Harry cocked his head, his emerald eyes thoughtful. "Like how not everyone likes Raiknok? Even Draco didn't like him at first, but now he does 'cuz Raiknok is rich and his daddy is a king."

Adrien's golden gaze sharpened. "Who is Raiknok?"

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. "My friend. He's a goblin."

A few murmurs broke out among the people still standing in a circle around Harry and Adrien, but the man silenced them with a look.

"So the rumors were true," he murmured softly, studying Harry intently.

Harry remained silent, unsure of what was going on.

"Harry, do you want to be our friend too, like with your goblin prince?"

The child peered at the people surrounding him. All of them looked back with fierce brown eyes. A few of the women smiled kindly at him. He glanced at Luc, who smiled back reassuringly.

"Yes, but I don't think Sev'rus will let you come for tea," Harry said solemnly, pushing up his glasses.

Adrien chuckled, ruffling the boy's inky curls. "No, I'd imagine not," he replied. "But some people don't like us, just like some people dislike your goblin friend. If you are friends with us, those same people might not like you either."

"I don't care," Harry said stubbornly. "I wanna be friends!"

Adrien stood up. "Well then, Harry Potter, friend of goblins. Would you like to be friend of the wolves as well?"

"Yes," Harry said strongly, his green eyes determined.

"So mote it be," Adrien murmured. His pack echoed it, and there was a flash of pale blue light as the Oath was sealed.

Harry looked around, puzzled. Adrien smiled down at him and took his hand, and Luc retrieved his toy dragon from the fountain ledge and handed it to him.

"Come, cub," the man said. "Let us return before your guardian discovers your absence. We have much to discuss, he and I."

Harry hugged his dragon to his chest and cast a shy smile at the werewolves still watching him as Adrien led him up the stairs and back to Severus.


	16. Chapter 16

Severus's eyes narrowed as he noticed his young ward leaving the auditorium, but he kept his face unreadable. He watched as Adrien Barclay slipped out after the child, and he struggled to keep the anger and suspicion out of his voice. He tried to rush through his speech, but was finding it hard to concentrate, worry gnawing at him. He very nearly breathed a sigh of relief when the French werewolf quietly reentered the room, leading the messy-haired little boy by the hand. They both reseated themselves in the back, and Barclay's unnerving golden eyes met his squarely, in them a glimmer of…triumph?

Severus finished his speech to polite applause and impatiently answered questions from his fellow potioneers. As soon as the next speaker had taken the podium, he strode down the aisle purposefully and grabbed Harry's arm. He stared directly at the werewolf.

"Outside. Now."

With a small, sardonic bow of his head, Adrien stood up and followed the irate young man and anxious child into the quiet corridor. Severus whirled upon him, dark eyes flashing.

"What. Happened," he growled, his grip on Harry tightening as the boy tried to squirm free.

Adrien met Severus's eyes steadily. "Young Mr. Potter merely made some new friends…and, may I say, important allies. But," he added as Severus's gaze grew deadly, "This is not the place to discuss such matters. My manor is not far from here, we could Apparate, if you wish?"

"I will not be going to your insipid den," Severus snarled. "What do you mean, Potter made friends?"

"I like the werewolves!" Harry spoke up earnestly, drawing his guardian's dark scowl to himself.

"What do you know?" Severus sneered. "You're just a stupid, idiotic child."

"Monsieur Snape," Adrien said in a low voice, "that child now has the protection of werewolves. I would watch your words, if I were you."

Severus turned his dark eyes back to the French man, rage barely contained within the obsidian depths. "He is MY ward, Barclay, not yours. I will only ask this once more. WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Harry came across my younger brother, Luc, being harassed for his…condition. He showed admirable courage and considerable magical power in his adamant defense of werewolves."

"I promised to be their friend, and then there was a blue light. Now I have more friends," Harry chirped up, staring at Severus defiantly. He clutched his dragon close to his chest as the Potions Master's rage crackled through the air.

"How dare you!" Severus growled, drawing his wand and pointing it at the werewolf. "HOW DARE YOU MANIPULATE A CHILD INTO TAKING AN OATH?"

Adrien stared back unflinchingly. "There was no manipulation, Monsieur Snape. I explained the ramifications of such a bond to the child, and he was given the choice of his own free will. It is binding."

"It is selfish!" Severus shouted. "He can't possible understand what he has promised you, you bloody bastard!"

Adrien narrowed his golden eyes slightly. "He has the most powerful raw magical energy I have ever seen. He is six years old and already friend of the goblin royalty and now ally to the werewolves. You cannot deny this child his power, Snape. And I would think you of all people would be grateful, seeing as he, and yourself, now have the protection of all the light werewolves in France and a promise to fight beside you when asked."

Severus breathed heavily, glaring at the man spitefully. "None of that matters. If you wanted to court the boy's allegiance, you should have waited until he was OLD ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND PRESICELY WHAT YOU WERE ASKING!"

Adrien opened his mouth to speak, but Severus turned away from him. "Let's go," he said stiffly to Harry, striding away from the werewolf. Harry cast a sad look over his shoulder at Adrien, who gave him a small smile.

"Until next time, Harry Potter and Severus Snape. Until next time."

Severus yanked Harry down the stairs, past the fountain, and out the doors. Within moments he had Apparated them both back to Hogwarts and had issued a curt command to Kimmi to retrieve their belongings from the hotel.

Harry peered up at his guardian anxiously. "Sev'rus, I'm sorry."

Severus glared down at the child before sighing. "You have no idea what you have done, and for good or ill, the consequences will last you a lifetime. When I took you in, I promised to stop people from manipulating you toward their own agendas, and already I have failed twice."

Harry looked uncertain. "Are you mad at me?"

"I've come to expect this sort of nonsense from you, you dunderhead," Severus said wearily.

The child looked hesitant, biting his lip. "Are you gonna get rid of me now?"

Severus cast a long look at the little boy. "No," he said finally. "I'm not."

Harry smiled shyly, wrapping his tiny arms around the young man's legs. Severus stood in shock, staring down at the child, before clearing his throat and pushing him away.

"It's getting late. You should be in bed."

As the boy scampered off to his room, Severus groaned into his hands. Things were getting far too complicated for his liking.

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"So young Mr. Potter has taken an Oath with the werewolves," Ragnok said thoughtfully as Severus finished up his tale of France.

"It would seem so," Severus said in anger.

The goblin king leaned back, looking thoughtful. "Why does that anger you?"

"They were wrong to coerce such a binding magical contract out of a child," the young man said fiercely.

Ragnok raised a brow, his dark eyes almost amused. "Indeed. However, perhaps it could prove to be useful."

Severus merely scowled, making no remark.

Ragnok leaned forward. "Have you decided what to do about Black?"

Severus sighed. "I don't know. He is clearly guilty, but I don't want Potter having to go through the trauma of hearing the sordid tale of his father's insipid choice of friends. I have enough gold to last for awhile. I believe it is best to wait until Harry is old enough to understand the situation a bit more. It's his parents' vaults, therefore perhaps he should be the one to decide what to do."

The director nodded seriously. "I believe you are right, Severus. I believe you are right. What will you do now?"

Severus shook his head. "I am going to let Potter continue his tutoring with the Weasleys and cultivate the friendship between Draco and your son. I hope Draco's preferences will eventually sway the Malfoy family away from the path they are on. At the very least, I hope to save Draco himself from making his parents' mistakes. I intend to keep him hidden from the Prophet and from the simpering idiots who are determined to fawn over him. I will not have him growing up acting like a celebrity. Or acting as arrogant as his cursed father."

Ragnok nodded wisely. "And when he begins Hogwarts, what then?"

"Then," Severus said grimly, "we will see." The two shared a long look full of solemn meaning, each knowing the worst was still to come.

_A/N: Alright guys. So this story has taken a far different turn than I expected, and I want to get Harry to Hogwarts real soon. So the next chapter might be kind of a filler chapter, where I will gloss over Harry's childhood from ages 6 to 11. His influence is spreading wide, and it's not quite done yet. I plan to stick pretty close to canon, with a few notable changes and twists. If you have any suggestions, don't be afraid to share. I read ALL reviews and take EVERYTHING you guys tell me into consideration. A lot of you are actually responsible for the direction this little story has turned! So read on, review on, and I'll catch you all next time! _


	17. Chapter 17

Severus scowled at the children playing in the sand of the French beach. Harry had been firmly Glamoured to protect his identity from the countless other beach-goers, and his shiny blonde hair was wet and plastered to his head as he and Draco built a sandcastle with Luc Barclay. The older boy patiently sat nearby, occasionally indulging the children with magical enhancements for their castle.

Severus tugged at his robes impatiently. They seemed to be inordinately heavy in the hot French sun, the sounds of children's laughter and gentle waves lapping against the shore ringing through the air. He turned his dark look upon Adrien Barclay, who was sprawled out in the warm sand shirtless, his chest muscular and tanned. His shaggy golden hair and piercing amber eyes were gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, attracting the gaze of many a witch. He looked up, meeting Severus's gaze with a small smile, and Severus sneered, turning back to his lesson plans.

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"Oh, wicked!" Harry exclaimed, unwrapping Severus's birthday present for him. The little cauldron set looked well-made and expensive.

"You are eight," Severus said stiffly. "It is high time you began learning something more useful than how to de-gnome a garden."

Harry smiled happily, looking around at all the crumpled wrapping paper and his friends who were gathered together. Raiknok sat perched on the couch, his smug expression belying the sense of pleasure he had gotten when Harry had been delighted over his present, a goblin-made sword. Next to him sat Draco, posture straight and hands folded, containing himself as a proper pureblood should. He had given Harry a set of gobstones and, to Severus's dismay, a training broom.

Sprawled out amongst the mess on the floor was Ron, playing with the animated Quidditch players he had gotten Harry. Severus sat uneasily on the loveseat, Minerva McGonagall perched nearby, holding the set of books she had brought for the birthday boy.

And last but not least, Adrien Barclay leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, his golden eyes meeting Harry's emerald ones with a small smile. Harry had to beg and plead for weeks before Severus had agreed to let the werewolf attend, even craftily resorting to using the guilt of what would happen to him if he ignored his Oath. Severus had shot him a dark look, but one that lightened considerably when he realized what a Slytherin maneuver that had been.

Harry sighed happily. All in all, he was content. He hoped things never, ever changed.

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Severus towered over the boys, his face a stony glare. Nine year old Harry glanced sheepishly at him from the jumble of books he was piled under. Severus's dark eyes scanned over the rest of the sitting room. Shimmering broken shards showed him the fate of his prized Ming vase. The curtains had been pulled off the rods, letting sunlight shine into the small house on Spinner's End. An end table was knocked over, and Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasely were tangled together in a heap by the doorway, a child-sized broom beside them.

Severus took a deep breath before sentencing them all to permanent detention once they reached Hogwarts. Then, much to their considerable dismay, he snatched up by the ears the two errant children he could get rid of and stalked down the hall to the Floo.

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Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration as he tried to copy Raiknok's movements.

"No," the goblin corrected patiently, adjusting the sword in Harry's hands. "Like this."

Harry nodded, adjusting his grip. Raiknok smiled. "Very good!"

Ragnok glanced at Severus with a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes. The man was tense beside him, ready to move at a moment's notice should the shining blade in his ward's hands slip. Ragnok allowed himself a very brief small smile as he turned back to watch the Goblin Prince teach the Boy-Who-Lived how to use a sword.

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"Aunt Minnie!" Harry chirped. "Can you teach me to be an Animagus like you?"

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Not a chance, lad."

"But…" Harry whined.

"You know you need to be of age first," the older woman admonished.

Harry pouted, and Minerva smiled primly.

"However, if you would like to research it…."

Harry beamed at her and she smiled fondly back.

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"POTTER!" Severus roared.

Harry blinked at him from behind soot-smudged glasses. "Erm, hi, Severus…"

Draco peered up guiltily from behind a twisted, melted cauldron. "Hey, Uncle Severus…"

Severus glared at his ward and godson irritably. "Five minutes. I left you two alone for five bloody minutes. You're ten years old, for Merlin's sake. Will you two ever grow up?"

Harry and Draco shared a glance, sheepish.

Severus sighed, massaging his temple as he surveyed their ruined experiment.

"Well," he said finally, wearily. "Let me show you what you did wrong."

Harry beamed as he and Draco crowded around the Potion Master, hanging raptly on every word.

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"I still don't trust them," Severus said flatly.

Ragnok raised a brow. "It has been nearly six years since the Oath, Severus, and they haven't called him to action yet."

"Barclay has something up his sleeve," the young man muttered darkly. "He's just biding his time."

Ragnok looked pensive. "I still believe the werewolf Oath will be a great boon to us in the future. At the very least, it is one more creature helping us fight if He-Who-Must-Be-Named returns."

Severus and the goblin shared a grim look.

"However," Ragnok said lowly, "Let us hope that is never the case."

"But the prophecy…" Severus said tiredly.

"Prophecies are rarely infallible," Ragnok said in rare irritation.

Severus sighed, hoping the goblin was right. But a niggling sense of foreboding remained firmly in the back of his mind.

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Severus walked into the kitchen on Harry's eleventh birthday to find him sitting at the table, his breakfast untouched, staring at a letter in dismay.

"I see you managed to scrape your way into Hogwarts," Severus said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Harry cast worried emerald eyes at his guardian. "Severus?" he asked hesitantly.

The Potions Master raised a brow as he helped himself to some bacon.

"What if I'm in Gryffindor?"

The man snorted. "Where else would you be, you foolish boy?"

Harry shrugged, playing with his toast. "I dunno. Slytherin?"

Severus eyed his young ward thoughtfully. "You're a Potter. You'll be in Gryffindor. The headmaster would have a heart attack otherwise."

Harry smiled. It was true. Albus Dumbledore had spent Harry's younger years regaling him with stories of his parents Gryffindor bravery and gifting him with gold and red shirts and bedcovers and curtains. He even had a plush lion that roared sitting on a shelf in his bedroom next to his worn stuffed dragon.

"If I am," the boy said earnestly, "you won't be mad?"

Severus gave a martyred sigh. "I knew I would be raising a bloody Gryffindor when I took you in. Now can I eat my breakfast in peace? The Malfoys will be here any minute with Draco to take you to get your supplies."

Harry beamed at his guardian, taking a huge bite of toast.

"Maybe I can join the Quidditch team."

Severus groaned.

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Harry and Draco heaved their trunks into a compartment, their faces flushed with excitement.

"All right, Harry? Draco?" Ron said, plopping down in the seat beside them.

"Hey Ron," Harry said happily. Draco nodded curtly.

"Professor Snape already at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I wanted to take the train with you lot."

Ron nodded, looking at the golden cage by Harry's feet. "Nice owl, mate."

"Thanks! She was my birthday present from Severus."

"Lucky," Ron muttered, staring at a lump of ragged grey fur on his lap.

Harry followed his gaze. "Still got Scabbers, then?"

"Yeah," Ron said, lacking much enthusiasm as he brandished the large grey rat. Draco wrinkled his nose delicately.

"Ron, I will gladly buy you a new rat if that one somehow finds its way into the Forbidden Forest."

Ron looked offended. "Oi, Malfoy. He's one of the few things that is mine and mine alone. I'm never getting rid of him!"

"But…he's so…scraggly!"

Harry surveyed the rat critically. "Yeah, mate. He is kind of mangy."

Ron glanced around conspiratorially before drawing his wand. "Well…Fred and George did teach me a spell to turn him yellow…"

"Wicked," Harry said. "Let's see it, then."

Ron cleared his throat. "Ahem. Sun-"

"Excuse me," a girl said, poking her bushy-haired head into the boys' compartment. "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

"No," Ron said, glaring at her. The girl glanced at his wand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

Ron glanced incredulously at Draco, who shrugged. He sighed, clearing his throat again.

"Er…sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

The other three leaned forward.

Nothing happened. Ron prodded the rat with his wand a few times.

Scabbers didn't move.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asked doubtfully. "Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course, I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me.

Ron gaped at her, and Draco sniggered. The girl turned her amber eyes to Harry, her mouth opening a bit as she saw his scar.

"You're Harry Potter!"

Harry tugged at his hair, cheeks red. "I know."

"I've read all about you. I'm Hermione Granger."

The girl turned to Draco, who gave her a haughty look. "And you are?"

"Draco Malfoy," he sneered.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron spoke up through a mouthful of Chocolate Frog.

"Pleasure," Hermione said shortly. "You've got some dirt on your nose, did you know that? Right there."

Ron flushed, wiping at his nose sullenly.

"Well, I ought to change into my robes. You three as well, I expect we'll be there soon."

She slipped back out of their compartment. Ron looked at the other two.  
"Blimey."

There was a shrill whistle as the train began to slow, and the three friends cast excited glances at each other. They were at Hogwarts!

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"Finnegan, Seamus!"

A small boy with shaggy blonde hair trotted up to the stool, sitting on it and placing the worn Sorting Hat on his head. The Great Hall was silent, and then the Hat shouted out-

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Seamus hopped off the stool amidst raucous cheers and made his way to the table clad in gold and scarlet.

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked a bit green.

"All right, there?" he whispered.

"What if I'm in Slytherin?" Ron asked in anguish.

Draco gave an offended look. "Then you will cease to be such a loser, Weasley. Might even bring a bit of honour to your family. Merlin knows you need it."

Ron glared at the boy, but his attention was distracted by the next name Professor McGonagall called out.

"Granger, Hermione."

The curly-haired girl from the train placed the Hat over her bushy hair. There was a long silence, then-

"RAVENCLAW!"

Ron breathed a sigh of relief at Hermione made her way toward the blue and silver adorned table.

"Malfoy, Draco."

Draco smoothed back his hair and sauntered up to the stool. The Hat hadn't even touched his head when it shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco shot a smug look at Harry and Ron, basking in his godfather's barely perceptible nod.

"Potter, Harry."

Whispers broke out in the Great Hall as students craned their necks around in an attempt to see Harry. Suddenly nervous, Harry glanced toward the staff table, where he met his guardian's dark eyes. Severus raised a brow. Swallowing hard, Harry made his way to the stool. He climbed up on it, pulling the Hat down over his eyes.

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At the staff table, Severus sighed in resignation. Beside him, Albus Dumbledore leaned forward, his usually twinkling gaze sharp. Severus knew he feared Harry would be in Slytherin, thus following down the path of Tom Riddle. Severus himself had to admit he had seen many Slytherin-like qualities in the boy in recent years, but he couldn't imagine a Potter being in his House. Still, the thought of James Potter rolling in his grave brought a small smile to his lips as he leaned back, waiting for the Hat to announce the inevitable.

There was a long, tense silent. And then, finally, the Hat opened its mouth.

_A/N: Yeah, yeah. I'm mean. Any guesses?_


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: First, let me say I am incredibly pleased that so many of you were spot-on in your guesses! To those of you who pleaded that I not choose this House, my apologies. But my Harry has been destined for this from the very start, and any other choice was just not an option. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, for I am now over 100 reviews! Shocking! Also thanks to everyone who has followed, favorited, or just stopped by and read. So carry on, and once again, sorry to those who were against this Sorting! _

"SLYTHERIN!"

Severus barely noticed as the last student (Zabini, Blaise) made his way to the Slytherin House table to mediocre applause from a muttering audience. His mind was still stuck on what had happened but a few moments ago.

He had waited with bated breath, much like the rest of the Great Hall and the esteemed headmaster, to hear which House the Boy-Who-Lived had been sorted into. He had watched as his ward had nervously approached the stool, settling the Hat over his perpetually messy hair. There had been an agonizingly long pause as the boy held himself very still, his lips moving slightly as though he was whispering to somebody. And then, at last, the Hat had opened its mouth.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

There had been a shocked silence in the hall as Harry nimbly hopped off the stool and made his way to the Hufflepuff House table. He was grinning madly as he caught Severus's shocked face. He sat himself down at the table nonchalantly, looking around with interest. Only then had the hall erupted in noise, stunned whispers and mutterings buzzing through the air. The Hufflepuffs had recovered enough to give a mighty roar of triumph, and Draco Malfoy had rolled his eyes in exasperation at his friend.

Pomona Sprout had pounded Severus on the back good-naturedly. "Looks like you did somebody right at least, eh, Sev?"

Albus Dumbledore has quickly masked his shock and disappointment and had sat back, eyeing the raven-haired boy with something akin to dismay. Severus had merely shook his head and poured himself a generous helping of Ogden's best, swallowing it down in one gulp.

Smoothly standing up, the headmaster gave his usual beginning of term speech, adding something at the end that made the fine hairs on the back of Severus's neck stand up.

"And the third floor corridor is off-limits to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. Now, eat up!"

Severus shot the older wizard a look, merely getting a twinkling smile in return. Uneasily, he turned to his plate, his mind whirling. He had not been in contact with the headmaster all summer, afraid he would have tried to pressure Harry into listening to certain things the boy wasn't ready to hear. As a result, he was just as surprised as the students to hear this announcement, and if there was one thing Severus Snape hated, it was being wrong-footed.

He glanced at the Hufflepuff table, where Harry was chatting happily to a small messy-haired boy and a pompous looking pureblood. Harry glanced toward him, his emerald eyes sparkling from behind his glasses. He gave a tentative smile. Severus gave a small nod in return, his face carefully blank. From beside him, the new Defense professor, Quirinus Quirrell, followed his gaze. His eyes met Harry's, and the boy suddenly flinched, looking away. Severus frowned, turning slowly to the man beside him.

"I-I h-h-heard y-y-our P-potter's guardian," the man stuttered. Severus merely raised a brow and sneered, his eyes falling on the young man's outrageous purple turban and his nose wrinkling at the overwhelming smell of garlic wafting from the folds to the man's robes.

"Congratulations," he said icily. "You can read the Prophet."

Quirrell seemed unfazed by the Potion Master's sarcasm. "I-is he r-r-r-eally the one who d-d-efeated the D-dark Lord?"

Severus's obsidian gaze sharpened, then hardened. "Nonsense," he said smoothly. "He was but a mere babe. And his magic is…mediocre at best."

The Defense Professor looked thoughtfully toward the Hufflepuff table again, but before he could say anything else, he was interrupted.

"A Hufflepuff, Severus. You must be very proud." A smirking Minerva McGonagall leaned over the table. "Filius, you owe me five Galleons."

Grumbling slightly, the diminutive Charms professor handed over the coins, shooting a dark look at Severus.

"I'll never hear the end of it. Had him pegged for a Slytherin, I did."

Severus frowned. "You betted on what House Potter would be in?"

"Of course," Minerva said primly.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "And you voted Hufflepuff?"

Minerva shot him a smug smile, very much the cat that ate the canary.

"Where else would the lad have been?"

Severus scowled as he turned back to his plate. Where else, indeed.

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Harry happily dug into his mashed potatoes, enjoying the chatter around him. He glanced around the hall, his eyes meeting Draco's from where the boy sat at the Slytherin table. The boy sighed, giving him an incredulous and amused look. Harry merely shrugged, smiling. His eyes then fell upon Ron, who was at the Gryffindor table shoving food into his mouth and talking a mile a minute to a black boy. Shaking his head slightly, he then looked toward the Ravenclaw table, where Hermione Granger was in a heated debate with a pretty black-haired girl who looked to be a second year. He chuckled, glancing around his own table.

The Hufflepuffs were incredibly pleased at having snagged the Savior of the Wizarding World. They attempted to pound his back, which he squirmed away from. He didn't like being touched by strangers. A very nice third year boy, Cedric Diggory, smiled kindly at him, and his fellow first years and dorm mates, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan, seemed very nice.

Harry cheerfully took a bite of his potatoes, his eyes straying toward the staff table. His guardian's dark eyes met his one, and he gave Harry a small nod. Harry smiled wider. He knew Severus wasn't entirely pleased with his House. But better than Gryffindor, he thought to himself in wry amusement. His gaze them fell on the professor next to his guardian, an odd, pale man in a thick purple turban. The man looked up suddenly, meeting Harry's eyes, and a sharp pain coursed through his scar. He gasped, looking away.

"Harry?" Justin asked in concern. "You alright?"

Harry blinked, the pain fading as fast as it had come. "Erm, yes. Just a headache."

"Ah," Ernie said sympathetically. "All the excitement, I expect. It was a jolly shock, your Sorting."

Harry smiled mischievously, the pain already forgotten. "Oh, I know."


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: To everyone still with me after the Sorting, thanks for the reviews and support. I took the liberty of borrowing some of Ms. Rowling's brillant text for this chapter, so please remember that we owe this wonderful world to her. Once again, thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following. _

Harry bounced on his heels eagerly, excited for his first ever potions class. He had studied his textbook for two weeks prior to term starting, hoping to impress his guardian. The other first years milled around the corridor, waiting for class to begin and talking amonst themselves. The Hufflepuffs had second period potions with the Ravenclaws, and Harry smiled kindly at Hermione as she approached. The girl looked harried, her bushy hair a cloud around her face. She seemed nervous, biting her lip.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked at him anxiously. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I read that you live with Professor Snape. Is that true?"

Harry nodded. "Yep."

"Is he…is he very mean? Only, some of the older students in Ravenclaw were telling me that he nefver awards points to anyone but Slytherins and he's really cruel…"

Harry frowned. "He is not! He just…doesn't like dunderheads."

Hermione looked like she was about to cry.

"Hey, look," Harry said reassuringly, panicking at the thought of making a girl cry. "He likes people who are really smart, but don't show it off. So maybe just take notes or something, and then if he asks you a question, answer it. That way you can show him how brilliant you are without annoying him."

Hermione blinked. "But…what if I do know the answer, and nobody else knows?"

Harry thought very hard. "It's okay to raise your hand if you know the answer, but don't make it seem like you are showing off."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I'll try. Thanks, Harry."

Harry smiled at her as Professor Snape pulled open the door to his classroom, not sparing anyone a glance as he strode inside. The students timidly followed him into the dimly lit dungeon classroom, their nervous chattering falling away as they took their seats. Professor Snape waited until they were silent before turning around, the eerie light casting shadows over his face.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Justin exchanged looks with raised eyebrowsHarry was impressed at the power his guardian's words carried. He glanced over to the table next to him, where Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat looking desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

Harry shot Hermione a slightly scolding look, and she bit her lip, sinking back into her seat.

"Potter!" said Severus suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood."

Harry blinked, struggling to keep his face straight. "That would make the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Severus raised a brow.

"And where, Potter, would I find a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir."

"Hmm." Severus spun around and pointed his wand at the board, where a list of instructions appeared.

"Complete this potion by the end of class. Begin."

Harry joined the throng of students going to the supply closet. He sidled close to where Severus was seated at his desk.

"Those weren't first years questions," Harry whispered. Severus raised a brow, not looking up from the essays he was grading.

"And?"

Harry frowned. "Would I have gotten points for it if I were in Slytherin?"

Severus's jaw tensed. "Fine, Potter. One point to Hufflepuff."

Harry grinned.

"And," his guardian continued, still not looking up. "One point from Hufflepuff, Potter, for your cheek."

Harry's jaw fell open in indignation, but before he could reply he was pushed to the front of the queue for supplies by the students behind him. He sullenly got his ingredients and stomped back to his desk, plopping down angrily.

And though he never once looked up at his young ward, Severus's lips curled up in a faint smirk.

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Harry finished writing his letters to Raiknok and Adrien, attaching the scrolls to Hedwig's leg. She gave a soft hoot and nipped his finger gently before swooping out the Owlery window into the fading dusk. Harry watched her until she was just a tiny dot in the sky, and then turned and left. He found Draco, Ron, and Neville, a chubby Gryffindor first year, waiting in the corridor for him.

"Spreading the shame of your Sorting?" Draco smirked, his grey eyes playful. Ron shoved the other boy.

"Oi, don't be such a git. Harry's happy being a 'Puff, aren't you Harry?"

Harry grinned. "Yup."

"W-was Professor Snape very mad at you?" Neville asked fearfully, his brown eyes wide.

Harry shrugged. "He never said anything about it."

"Probably just thanked Merlin you weren't a bloody Gryffindor," Draco said. Ron narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth for a retort, but Harry cut him off before they could get into their bickering.

"Do any of you know what the headmaster meant when he warned us about the third floor corridor?"

Ron scratched his nose, frowning. "Well, he said we would die if we went there, didn't he?"

Draco scoffed. "Please. Like he would really have something dangerous enough to kill us in a school. Probably he was just being dramatic."

Harry was quiet as they walked down the stairs, his mind whirling. "Do you think maybe something is hidden there?"

Ron cocked his head. "Like what?"

"There was a break-in at Gringotts the day before term started," Neville spoke up hesitantly. "But…the vault that was robbed had already been emptied."

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "The day before term began? I was at Gringotts with Mother, and I saw that oaf Hagrid there. He was in the queue before us, and he told the teller he wanted the 'you-know-what' in the 'you-know-where'."

Ron looked excited. "D'you reckon that's what the headmaster is hiding?"

"We don't know he is hiding anything," Neville protested. "And even if he is, it's too dangerous for us to go about being nosy."

Draco smirked. "Afraid, Longbottom? You are a truly terrible Gryffindor, you know."

"Hey," Harry said. "Be nice."

Neville's eyes darkened. "I just don't want to get in trouble."

"Trouble?" a voice asked,and the boys turned to see Hermione walking toward them, her arms laden with books.

"Library just closed," she said. "Curfew is soon. Why would you be in trouble?"

'We're not," Harry assured her. 'We were just talking about the third floor corridor."

"Why?"

"We reckon Dumbledore's hiding something there," Ron said.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Well, I did read that Hogwarts was the safest place on earth, so I guess it's possible." She struggled with her armful of books, stumbling.

"Wouldn't you like to know what he's hiding?" Draco asked, taking some of the heavier books from Hermione. She shot him a grateful smile.

"No, not really," she said. "I mean, we could get killed. Or worse, expelled!"

Harry, Ron, Draco, and Neville all exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into raucous laughter. Hermione stared at them, bemused.

They reached the main hall of the castle and Draco handed Hermione's books to Neville. They all waved goodbye, and Ron, Neville, and Hermione made their way upstairs to the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers. Harry and Draco continued on to their dungeon common rooms in companionable silence. Harry couldn't quell his curiosity about the mystery of the third floor corridor. He frowned thoughtfully to himself.

What could be hiding there? He remembered Draco and Neville talking about the break-in at Gringotts and smiled. He would be writing another letter to Raiknok first thing in the morning. Maybe he could tell Harry what was stolen.


	20. Chapter 20

_Harry, Brother-in-Arms,_

_I am glad to hear you are enjoying Hogwarts so far. My tutoring has continued, and my father hopes that in two years I may take part in my ceremony of adulthood and be presented with my own blade. I hope to make my nation proud._

_I am sorry I cannot tell you what was taken from our Noble Bank by those who WILL be punished. I can, however, tell you it was from the Flamel vault._

_Have you ever heard of Nicolas Flamel? He is well-known, even among Goblins. He is a brilliant alchemist who has achieved a great many wondrous things. He has invented the Philosopher's Stone and has perfected the Elixer of Life. He is a renowned alchemist. Actually, brother, I have heard rumors that he left a manuscript of his best works with the Centaurs of the Forbidden Forest near your school. I imagine Severus would be quite thrilled at the chance to read something of that caliber. Alas, the Centaurs guard their possessions, and territory, quite jealously._

_I hope to meet your new friends Neville and Hermione soon, and I look forward to seeing Draco and Ron again as well._

_May your enemies ever be struck down,_

_Raiknok_

Harry read Raiknok's letter with growing excitement. Nicolas Flamel? Philosopher's Stone? Elixir of Life?

He read through it again, soaking in every word. His mind was going in a million different directions. He needed to talk to his friends. Shoving the letter into his pocket, he hurried to the Great Hall, a smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~

"YOU HAVE WHAT IN THE BLOODY CASTLE?"

Albus Dumbledore peered sternly over his half-moon spectacles. "Now, Severus, there is no need to shout."

Severus Snape's nostrils flared as he glared at the headmaster. "I understand this is a rhetoric question, old man, but are you MAD?"

"I assure you I am quite well in my mental capacity, Severus. I'm merely helping out an old friend. There are those who would kill to get their hands on the Philosopher's Stone, after all. And isn't Hogwarts the safest place for it?"

"No!" Severus said, incredulously. "A school full of nosy, moronic children is NOT the best place for the Stone, or a bloody GIANT THREE-HEADED DOG! Not to mention, _headmaster_, your little announcement about the third floor corridor was bound to make some of the stupider ones curious, perhaps even curious enough to check."

Albus merely shook his head sadly. "I would never put a student deliberately in danger, Severus. Come now, be reasonable."

But Severus wasn't listening. His dark eyes had widened, then narrowed. "But maybe it was students you were baiting…"

Dumbledore threw him a sharp look. "What are you saying, Severus?"

Severus met his eyes squarely. "Nothing, headmaster. Nothing at all."

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"The Philosopher's Stone?" Hermione repeated. Harry nodded vigorously, handing Hermione his letter.

She scanned it quickly. "No, I've never heard of it."

Harry's face dropped.

"Why do you ask?"

"My friend Raiknok told me…"

"Raiknok?" Neville interrupted. "That's a strange name…"

"It's a goblin name, isn't it Harry?" Hermione asked eagerly.

Harry nodded. Neville blanched.

"You're friends with a goblin, Harry?"

"And werewolves," Draco drawled in a bored tone. "Our Harry here gets around."

"WEREWOLVES?" Neville looked decidedly green now.

"Anyway," Harry said hurriedly, "Raiknok told me this man, Nicolas Flamel, left a manuscript of his alchemy with the Centaurs in the Forest. Do you reckon a Potions Master would like to read it?"

Draco frowned. "You want to get this manuscript for Uncle Severus?"

Neville sputtered. "'Uncle Severus'?!"

The other four ignored him.

"We ought to research it first," Hermione said thoughtfully. "We need to know the name of it, after all. And we probably ought to read up on the Centaurs and their customs."

Harry nodded. "That's what I was thinking. I bet Hagrid could tell us about them!"

Draco groaned. "Then we'd have to eat his horrible cooking. That's torture!"

Ron shrugged. "Hey mate, it's not that bad."

"Easy for you, Weasley, you'd eat anything."

"Boys!" Hermione admonished. Both boys fell silent.

"So its agreed, then? We should research more and talk to Hagrid. I bet the library has books on Nicolas Flamel."

"Right," Hermione said, her cinnamon eyes sparkling at the thought of research. The boys all smirked. "Harry, Neville and I will research the manuscript. Draco, you and Ron can look up the Centaurs and their customs."

The boys nodded dutifully. "Aye aye, ma'am!" Draco said, giving a smart salute. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and the group of friends made their way to the library, laughing and joking with each other.

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Severus stormed through the dungeons in a foul mood, snarling at a pair of first year Slytherins who had the misfortune of being in his way. He had been on his way back from the headmaster's office when he had passed the library. That little know-it-all Ravenclaw, Granger, had been exiting it at the time with Draco, her arms laden with books. She had ran right into him, her books spilling over the floor.

"Sorry, sir!" she said hurriedly, scooping her books up. "I didn't see you."

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Miss Granger, for being the most moronic student to ever grace that House."

Granger had bitten her lip, but had remained silent. Draco had shot a reproachful look at him, which he ignored. Severus bent down and snagged the last book before the girl could pick it up.

"_Famous Alchemists and Their Works_?" he read the title, his eyes narrowing.

"Just…researching, sir," Granger said meekly.

Severus eyed her for a moment before thrusting the book at her. "I suggest you return to your common rooms."

They both nodded, hurrying away.

Severus had returned to his dungeons, and that was where he was now. Why had Granger and Draco, two of Potter's obnoxiously large group of friends, been researching alchemists? He knew for a fact that wasn't in the first year curriculum. Was it possible they were onto the third floor corridor already? How much did they know?

He fumed. It figured Potter would have the same nose for trouble as his father. Probably had already been to the third floor and seen that blasted dog.

Severus cursed. He would stop Potter if it was the last thing he did.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: This chapter is dedicated to **Strix nebulosa**, for your wonderfully long review. and a special thanks to ALL my reviewers and everyone following this tale. You all rock!_

A few weeks later, it was an early Saturday morning when Harry found himself sitting in the dining room of his guardian's private quarters. Severus was looking through his schoolwork and test scores while Harry munched on some toast. He glanced over as Severus paused at a sheet of parchment and raised a brow.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, biting his lip. "We had a surprise test in Transfiguration."

"And?" Severus said, angling the paper so Harry could see the giant 'T' scrawled across it.

"And, er, it was a surprise," Harry admitted ruefully. "But don't worry!" he added hurriedly. "Hermione's helping me learn better, er, 'study and time management'."

Severus merely took a sip of his coffee and neatly stacked the parchment. "Well, other than your abysmal test scores, you appear to be doing decently, if a bit mediocre. Perhaps more time with your books and less time with your friends is in order."

"Oh!" Harry said, dismayed. "But…"

Severus glared at him.

"I mean, it's just that we have a study group going on. We help each other with our homework."

"I am sure you mean to say Miss Granger helps you with your homework, and then you all waste time with frivolous nonsense."

"No," Harry protested. "We all have stuff we are good at. 'Mione is good at pretty much everything, but she won't do the work for us, she makes us look it up ourselves. And Draco is aces at Potions, so he helps anyone struggling with that. Neville is amazing at Herbology, he knows every plant there is! And Ron is really good with logic, he just gets distracted easily."

"Indeed," Severus said drily. "Tell me, Potter, why do you and your little friends spend so much time in the library?"

"We study," Harry said. "I just told you that."

"Watch your mouth, Potter. I can and will take house points, even if it's a Saturday."

Harry scowled mutinously, but remained silent.

"Now," Severus continued. "Why don't you tell me what you are all really doing."

"Studying!"

"Studying famous alchemists?" Severus said sharply.

Harry bit his lip. "That's just a…research project."

"Indeed," Severus drawled. "Tell me, then. Have you and your friends been anywhere you shouldn't have been?"

Harry blushed. He and Draco had been on the edges of the Forbidden Forest a few days ago. Draco was good at art and had been drawing a map to help find the Centaurs. They hadn't dared go much further beyond the first strand of trees, and they had been interrupted by Hagrid and Fang. Harry assumed Hagrid had told Severus.

"It was only once, and we didn't go far in…"

Severus was livid. "50 points from Hufflepuff!"

Harry sputtered, choking on his toast. "But…we didn't…."

"HOW DARE YOU SO BLANTANTLY DISOBEY BOTH MYSELF AND THE HEADMASTER! DID YOU NOT HEAR WHEN HE SAID THAT IT WAS FORBIDDEN TO GO THERE?"

Harry frowned, the headmaster's words at the opening feast drifting back to him. "And just a reminder, the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all students."

"Well, yes, but…"

"OUT!" Severus roared. Harry cast him a glare before fleeing the chambers, the door slamming shut behind him.

Severus breathed heavily, massaging his temples. Potter had just admitted to going to the third floor corridor.

"But…we didn't go far in…" his ward's voice echoed

Severus swore. He had told Dumbledore having the Stone here was just asking for trouble. It seemed Potter was determined to find it.

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"Wow," Ron said as Harry finished telling his friends about his morning. "So Snape's onto us?"

"Are you sure you want to continue doing this, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Yeah," Draco said. "I mean, this is all for him and he's being a right arse about it."

Hermione shot Draco a reproving look for his language. Harry frowned.

"Well, I know he's being kinda mean, but…"

"I still can't believe he's your guardian," Neville said, shuddering. "He must be horrid to live with during the summer."

"Not really," Harry began, but Ron cut him off.

"Yeah, I bet he makes you scrub cauldrons and pickle newts!"

"No he doesn't!" Harry said hotly.

"How can you stand living with someone who hates you?" Hermione asked meekly.

Harry was incensed. He stood up, glaring at all of his friends. "You guys don't know anything! He doesn't hate me! He just…isn't good with feelings and stuff!"

"Alright, mate," Ron said, looking alarmed at Harry's ferocity. "If you say so."

Harry sighed, sinking back into his seat and looking around the deserted library. "We just have to be really careful now, is all."

The other friends nodded solemnly. None of them wanted to get on Severus Snape's bad side.

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It was late afternoon after the last class had gotten out for the day when Hermione ran up to Harry, her cinnamon eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed.

"Harry!" she panted, swiping an errant brown curl out of her face impatiently. "I've found it!"

Harry's emerald eyes widened. "You have?"

The girl nodded excitedly. "_Librum Arcanum! _"

Harry grinned. "Wicked! You're brilliant, Hermione!" He hugged her fiercely.

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked, blushing furiously. "Oh, erm, um…"

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled as Draco Malfoy sauntered up, raising an elegant brow and smirking. "Am I interrupting?"

Ron appeared at Draco's shoulder, his eyes widening at the sight of Harry and Hermione embraced.

"Hermione found it!" Harry beamed, stepping away from his friend.

"I found the name of the manuscript," Hermione said. "_Librum Acanum._"

Ron whistled between his teeth. "Now what?"

"Now," Harry said, "we talk to the centaurs."

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Severus ran a hand through his lank hair in agitation. Tomorrow was Halloween, and he had noticed Potter and his friends acing very strange. Antsy and nervous. They were often seen huddled together, speaking in urgent whispers that abruptly stopped whenever the Potions Master stalked past. Severus scowled. It could only mean one thing. Potter was going to try to go after the Stone again.

Added to that, he had noticed someone else acting quite strange. Severus had been observing Quirnius Quirrell for the last few weeks and was almost positive something was wrong with the man, aside from the obvious horrible fashion sense and lack of hygiene. During staff meetings when Dumbledore would wax eloquent about that blasted Stone, the trembling, stuttering man's eyes would light with a feverish, lustful glow. He had been watching Severus's ward very carefully as well almost calculatingly.

Severus swore furiously, pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey and downing it in one gulp. He had a very bad feeling about tomorrow.


	22. Chapter 22

Draco Malfoy frowned as sank into the plush green armchair, staring into the fire that warmed the Slytherin common room as he mentally reviewed everything he knew about Centaurs one last time. He was so deep in thought, he didn't notice the trio of first years approaching him. He glanced up in annoyance as a girl cleared her throat.

Pansy Parkinson smiled at him. She was flanked by the rather large Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Draco sniffed. He had never cared much for those two louts. They were entirely too unrefined for his taste.

"Draco," Pansy said, twirling a lock of her hair around a finger. "Crabbe, Goyle, and I were wondering if you wanted to play some Exploding Snap with us?"

"Can't," Draco said curtly. "I'm busy."

Pansy's face darkened . "With what? Your pathetic little friends aren't around."

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly. "Excuse me?"

Pansy crossed her arms, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I just don't understand why you spend so much time with those losers. Potter, maybe, if he wasn't a Hufflepuff. But Longbottom and Weasley couldn't find their way out of a box with a map, and Granger is nothing but an ugly Mudblood. I mean, honestly, what would your father think if he knew the sort of company you keep?" She wrinkled her pert nose in disgust at the thought.

Draco's eyes were stormy as he stood up. His posture was casual and elegant, but tense. "What do you know, Parkinson? Your only companions are these two, who I'm not sure can even speak."

"Can too," Goyle grunted.

Draco didn't even spare the larger boy a glance. He stepped closer to Pansy, the firelight playing across his high cheekbones. "You listen to me, Parkinson, and listen well. Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord…when he was nothing but an infant. He is ally to the Goblin nation, which, as you might have noticed, controls all of OUR gold. He is also friend of werewolves. Now, I don't know if you have ever seen a werewolf, but trust me, they are NOT something you want to mess with. Hermione Granger is the brightest witch in our year, far cleverer than you could ever hope to be. Neville Longbottom is a pureblood, from the Noble House of Longbottom, which was established far before the House of Parkinson was even thought of. Weasley you might be correct about, but as he is a valued friend of Harry Potter and a pureblood himself, he is still somewhat acceptable in society. Now, if that's all you had to say, step aside. I have places to be."

Pansy's mouth had dropped slightly during Draco's tirade, but she snapped it shut now, an ugly scowl on her face. "Where do you have to be?" she spat. "The Halloween feast is in a few hours!"

Draco merely arched a brow as he shoved past the trio. He glanced over his shoulder. "I've decided not to attend the feast, Parkinson. See, I saw something truly terrible that put me off my appetite. Your face."

With that last parting shot, Draco sauntered out of the common room, leaving a fuming and red-faced Pansy Parkinson behind.

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"Hey Draco!" Harry chirped as the Slytherin approached him. He, Hermione, Ron, and Neville were already by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was dusk, and the quickly fading daylight caused the gnarled trees to cast deep, ominous shadows across the grounds. Hogwarts stood proud in the dying sun, candlelight flickering in windows and the occasional owl swooping around the towers.

"Are we ready?" Draco asked, casting a slightly apprehensive look toward the shadowed trees.

Hermione nodded nervously. "We have spent ages researching the Centaurs' customs. We should be prepared."

"Can we try to be back in time for the feast?" Ron asked, looking toward the castle longingly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I don't want anyone to notice that we are gone."

Neville cleared his throat. "T-then maybe we should get going."

There was a slight hesitation as the four friends cast anxious looks at each other, and then Harry took a deep breath, stepping forward into the gloom of the Forest. The others followed, and they trekked through in silence, the occasional twig snapping or low growl making them jump. Draco pulled out the roughly-drawn map he had made, and Hermione drew her wand.

"Lumos."

The faint blue light illuminated the map and the path in front of them. There was a low howl in the distance.

"Er, how far is it, exactly?"Neville asked, trembling.

Draco frowned. "Well, I wasn't able to make a comprehensive map, was I? But our research showed that they Centaur herd lives in the heart of the Forest. We need to just keep walking east."

There was another long silence. Rustling noises from the trees spooked them, and every once in a while eerie yellow eyes would glitter from the shadows.

Harry frowned as an odd itchy feeling began in his scar. He scratched it absently, his eyes roving around his surroundings alertly. They fine hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up.

"Tell me," Ron said suddenly, causing the others to jump, "why did we choose to come here in the bloody night?"

"We couldn't exactly leave during the day when we have classes and the teachers are all about, now could we? The adults are all busy tonight with the feast. As long as we get back in time, nobody will notice we are gone," Hermione replied briskly.

"Why?" Draco sneered. "Afraid of the dark, Weasley?"

"Why you rotten little…"

"Quiet!" Harry suddenly said. The others fell silent immediately.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione whispered. Harry cocked his head.

"What's that?"

The other's followed his gaze. Gleaming in the shadows was a brilliant flash of white.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured. "That's a unicorn, that is."

Hermione's face was the delight of a young girl. "Unicorn? But they are really rare, and they usually don't show themselves to anyone."

The unicorn stared at them with deep blue eyes for a long moment, and then lowered its head, its golden horn gleaming.

"It's beautiful," Harry whispered, stepping forward. A sudden jolt of pain pierced through his skull and he cried out, clasping a hand to his head. The unicorn tensed, turning its head slightly, its ears perked.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

A sharper pain racked through him, and Harry fell to his knees, the Forest swirling around him. The unicorn pawed the ground anxiously, and Harry let out a piercing scream.

His scream filled his ears, intense and piercing. He curled up on the ground and moaned, but the scream continued. Blearily, he realized he wasn't the one crying out. Lifting his head with great effort, he saw a spiky dark shadow lunge at the unicorn, tearing open its side. Silver blood splashed out, glittering in the light of the full harvest moon. The shadow sank its head into the wound, and the unicorn screamed.

Harry struggled to his feet. Hermione was sobbing hysterically behind him and he could hear Ron muttering "Bloody hell, oh Merlin, oh bloody hell," over and over again. Neville was crouched on the ground, covering his ears and Draco was pointing a trembling wand at the shadow.

Harry let out a low moan and the shadow raised its head, red eyes gleaming as silver blood from it. The pain in Harry's scar was so intense it utterly consumed him, and without thinking he lunged at the shadow, half screaming and half sobbing. He threw himself at the shadow, and the minute he collided with it, it let out a great howl of pain and fury, black smoke and an icy coldness engulfing Harry as he lost consciousness.

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Severus Snape prowled through the corridors restlessly, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. He made his way to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, every one of his keen senses on high alert. He entered the already crowded Hall through the staff entrance, the enticing smell of food filling his nose. The very first thing he noticed was that Quirinus Quirrell was not in his place at the staff table.

"Severus, my boy!" Dumbledore greeted him jovially. "Come, sit. Let us enjoy this marvelous spread!"

"Albus," Severus said in a tight voice. "Where his Quirrell?"

Dumbledore's eyes flickered a bit, but were quickly replaced with their usual twinkle. "I'm sure he is just running a bit late. Now come, Severus, sit."

Before Severus could reply, the doors to the Great Hall were flung open and a disheveled and dirty Quirrell stood before the school, panting.

"Troll!" he cried hoarsely. "In the dungeon. Just thought you ought to know."

He then collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

In the ensuing chaos and panic, Severus's eyes darted to the Hufflepuff table, and his heart stopped in his chest. Harry wasn't there.

c


	23. Chapter 23

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore roared, standing up. His presence dominated the Great Hall, cutting through the terror and panic like a knife through butter. The students fell silent, looking toward their headmaster for guidance.

"Prefects, take your Houses to your common rooms immediately."

"Now, you just wait one minute!" Pomona Sprout shouted, her eyes flashing. "The Slytherin and Hufflepuff common rooms are in the dungeons!"

Dumbledore frowned. "Then all students remain where you are. Do not panic. Prefects, do a head count."

"Headmaster," Severus said lowly as the students returned to their seats. "Harry is gone. So is Draco."

Albus looked quickly toward the Hufflepuff table, an almost triumph gleam in his eyes.

"Sir," the Gryffindor Head boy said, approaching the staff table. "Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom are missing."

"So is Hermione Granger," the Ravenclaw Head Girl added.

Severus swore, and then he noticed Quirnius Quirrell was no longer laying on the floor.

Scowling, he pushed past the students as he ran out of the Great Hall, Dumbledore calling after him. He ran until he felt his lungs would burst, all the way to the third floor corridor. He shoved the door open, hearing the faint chimes of harp music. The Cerberus was sound asleep, drool running in great rivulets from its frothing mouths. The trap door beneath the beast was open. Severus dove through it, landing with a muffled thump on Pomona's devil's snare. With a quick flick of his wand, flames appeared, charring the deadly plant as Severus ran across it to the next door. He fought his way across the giant chessboard that was Minerva's and caught the fluttering key that was Filius's. He gulped down his own potion and then, at last, he was at the final door.

Panting and bloodied, he threw open the door, wand raised as he prepared to rescue his ward. But his jaw dropped when all he saw was Quirrell sitting quietly in front of an ornate mirror, staring unwaveringly into the glass. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

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Harry came to slowly, a dull throbbing in his head. He sat up blearily, fumbling around for his glasses. He found them and put them on. The lens were smudged and scratched. He blinked, looking around.

The first thing he saw was Hermione. She was wrapped around a pale golden unicorn foal, fast asleep. Her arms were around the unicorn's neck, and her bushy hair covered her face. Ron and Neville were curled up in the grass. Ron's mouth was open and he was snoring and Neville was curled up in a ball, leaves in his messy hair. Draco was lounging against a huge stallion, lightly dozing. Harry frowned, rubbing his eyes. What had happened?

He struggled to stand up, and the stallion Draco laid upon looked toward him before standing up. Draco jerked awake, his pale hair disheveled.

"Harry?" he murmured, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed. "What happened?"

Draco frowned. "I dunno. You threw yourself at that…that..thing, and it started to smoke when you touched it. There was this great, fearful racket, and then the thing disappeared. You were unconscious. We tried to wake you up, and then the unicorns all appeared and surrounded us. There was this bright light, and then I guess we fell asleep."

Harry looked toward the stallion, who was watching him with wise crystal eyes. "You helped us, didn't you?"

The stallion let out a low whicker. There was a rustling as the other unicorns began to stir, rousing the sleeping children. Harry looked at the moon, which was hanging low in the sky.

"Severus is gonna kill me," he groaned.

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Severus paced back and forth in agitation. Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, looking grim.

"Severus, sit. We will find him."

Severus spun around, glaring balefully at the old man. "Why the hell weren't you more worried when I told you he was missing?"

The headmaster gave him a shrewd look. "I assumed, much like you, that I knew where he was."

"You wanted him to be there, didn't you? This year, it was all a trap to make Harry and the Dark Lord collide. Wasn't it?"

Dumbledore's eyes grew slightly cold. "Choose your words wisely, my boy, for once said they cannot be taken back."

Severus breathed heavily. "You bloody old fool. You will regret this."

He turned to leave, his black cloak billowing.

"Wait!" Dumbledore cried. "Where do you think you are going?"

Severus didn't look back. "I am going to find my son."

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Harry and his friends walked through the Forest quietly, surrounded by unicorns. The sun had begun to peek over the horizon, casting a pale golden glow across the trees. In the light of morning, the Forest didn't look nearly as ominous. Colorful flowers scattered across the grassy floor and a trickling creek merrily bubbled nearby. Bright birds scattered into the air as the children walked under the thick foliage. They walked for what seemed like hours before reaching the edge of the Forest.

"Harry!" a hoarse voice called out, and Harry looked up to see Severus, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid running toward them.

The unicorn stallion stepped forward, lowering his horn threateningly, and the rest of the herd closed in around the children. The adults stopped, eyeing the unicorns warily.

"It's okay!" Harry said hurriedly, patting the stallion's neck. "They are okay."

The stallion eyed Harry for a moment before turning and locking eyes with Severus. After a long, tense moment, the unicorn gently rubbed its nose against Harry's hand. Harry laughed.

"Thank you."

The unicorn stallion gave a low whicker and then, to Harry's shock, it kneeled down on its front legs. The rest of the unicorn herd did the same until the children were surrounded by bowing unicorns. Hagrid gasped and Professor McGonagall had tears in her eyes. Severus blinked, his breath catching in his throat.

Harry swallowed hard, stepping toward the stallion. He reached out a trembling hand and placed it on the unicorn's head, and the unicorn's horn glowed with a blinding light that engulfed Harry. There was a faint chime, like of bells, and then the light faded. The unicorns all rose and nuzzled Harry. Then, with a flick of his great head, the stallion led his herd back into the Forest, the glistening white of their coats fading into the leafy shadows.

Harry turned toward the adults, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, rushing forward and grabbing Severus in a fierce hug. The man stiffened for a moment, and then slowly wrapped his arms around the boy, brushing sweaty hair back to reveal a grubby, bloody face.

"You're grounded," he said.

Harry gave a half-chuckle, burying his head into Severus's torso. Hagrid and Minerva gathered up the other children, herding them away and giving the man and the boy their space.

And as the sun rose over the tops of the trees, illuminating Hogwarts, Severus took Harry's hand and together they walked back to the castle. Severus's mind was whirling with what he had just seen. The unicorns had given Harry Potter their allegiance. Ragnok would need to hear about this.

And something needed to be done about Dumbledore, he thought grimly. And soon.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Thanks for the continued support and encouragement. Your reviews are all appreciated. Things are really starting to pick up now, so everybody get ready. There have been lots of speculations regarding Harry's allies, and let me be honest. I really don't have anything planned out. I surprised myself with the unicorns, because I had a vague idea that it would be, obviously, the Centaurs Harry befriended next. But no matter, we will see where this goes. If you have any suggestions or comments, please feel free to let me know. I take everything into consideration, and I do plan on using a lot of your guys' ideas. So sit back, get comfortable, and read on._

Lucius Malfoy was livid. The letter from his son was crumpled in his white-knuckled fist as he sat staring into the fire. His son's missive told a fanciful, childish tale full of unicorns and evil spirits. Scrawled in among the fantasy were bits of information that were very, very interesting to Lucius.

Apparently, if the boy was to be believed, Albus Dumbledore had taken an incredibly rare and dangerous magical artifact and hidden it within his school, setting up elaborate traps to ensure its protection. Now, Lucius Malfoy was a very prominent member on the Board of Trustees and the Board of Educators, and he did not recall Dumbledore ever seeking permission to have such an object as the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts, let alone a lethal three-headed dog that could have killed a student. His only son and the heir to the Malfoy name and fortune could have been snapped up, reduced to nothing more than a dog toy. And all because of one man's foolishness.

Lucius took a fortifying gulp of brandy as he mused through his next course of action. First he needed to contact Severus Snape and determine which parts of his son's letter were fact and which were schoolboy fantasies brought on by childhood adventures with his friends. Lucius frowned. He had not initially approved of Draco's choice of companions. Two blood-traitor whelps, a mudblood girl, and the Hufflepuff enigma that was Harry Potter was hardly appropriate company for a pureblood of Draco's pedigree. However, if there was even a grain of truth in this letter….if Harry Potter was not only the Boy-Who-Lived but also the Boy-Who-Ran-With-Wolves, friend of the Goblin Nation, and now lord of unicorns, then perhaps it was time Lucius Malfoy begin thing long and hard about the future and his loyalties.

For the time being, he would see what information Severus would trust him with. Big changes were happening, he mused as he pulled forward a thick sheet of creamy parchment embossed with the gold Malfoy crest. He would certainly watch very closely as it all played out.

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Ragnok listened to Severus's tale silently, his long fingers steepled together and a strange glint in his intelligent eyes.

"So," he said, "it would seem our young Mr. Potter is gaining allies right and left."

Severus scowled. "If he would just stay out of bloody trouble, he wouldn't need allies in the first place."

Ragnok gave a wry half-smile, exposing the tips of sharp fangs. "Indeed. Did he ever tell you why he was in the Forest?"

Severus thought back to the morning Harry had been found. Severus had been furious, demanding to know that very thing.

"We thought we saw something," Harry had said, avoiding eye contact. "So we followed it."

Severus had looked at the other children. Hermione Granger's eyes were wide as she looked quickly at Harry, but her face gave nothing away. Draco's face had been cool and composed, a blank mask. Weasley had stared forward, his jaw jutting out defiantly and his ears red. And Longbottom had been shaking so hard Severus had been sure he was going to rattle what little brains he had right out of his head.

"No," Severus growled. "They are all hiding something."

"Whatever it is," Ragnok said calmly, "Surely it's far more innocent than Lord Voldemort and the Philosopher's Stone. What was done with Quirrell?"

"He died," the Potions Master said shortly. "We couldn't pry him away from that damn mirror. Ragnok, I have a terrible suspicion that…"

The goblin leaned forward. "That he was possessed by the one you call the Dark Lord?"

Severus breathed out. "Yes."

"I agree," the director said. "And I believe Harry Potter had his second run-in with Voldemort that night in the Forest. You know what unicorn blood does, Severus."

Severus rubbed his face. "Yes. But that would mean he is still alive, in a way. He is still out there, able to cause pain."

Ragnok nodded solemnly. "That is a terrible prospect, but it is one we must prepare ourselves for."

Severus shuddered, looking away. He absently rubbed the faded Dark Mark on his left forearm.

"So," he said, changing the subject. "What are we going to do about Dumbledore?"

Rangok looked thoughtful. "You said you received correspondence from Lucius Malfoy regarding this year's sordid affair, did you not?"

Severus gave a curt nod. "I assured him everything Draco said was indeed the truth."

"Excellent," Ragnok said. "If I know Malfoy, he is going to investigate the matter very thoroughly and come down hard if he finds any discrepancies, which are guaranteed, especially with the death of a teacher to consider." He gave Severus a rather feral grin. "As for the immediate now, I do formally announce the Goblin Nation's declaration of war against one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump, Order of Merlin, First Class. His vault will be closed effective immediately and entrance in any Gringotts bank in the world shall be an immediate death sentence. Let's see how the old fool likes that."

Severus grinned back at his friend, chuckling. Things were about to get very interesting indeed.

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Harry sighed, closing his Transfiguration book and rolling up his essay on turning a kettle into a jaybird.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, looking up from his own homework. There was a smudge of ink on his nose and dark circles under his eyes.

"I guess," Harry said despondently, slumping back in his chair.

"Are you still upset we weren't able to find the manuscript?" Hermione asked quietly, peering over the top of her book.

"Well, yeah," Harry said. "But I've just felt really down lately. Ever since…"

"Ever since you touched that shadow," Draco finished. Harry nodded, sighing.

"That was terrifying," Neville spoke up, his voice cracking slightly. He shot a quick glance toward Madam Pince, who was thankfully ignoring them.

"You touched it, and it started to…sizzle," Ron said.

"I wonder what it was?"

Hermione bit her lip, looking upset. "I've read everything on spirits I can, but I didn't come across anything like it."

There was a depressed silence at the table.

"In other news," Draco said, breaking the quiet. "My father is investigating the third floor corridor."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, and guess what Raiknok told me? Dumbledore is now an enemy of the Goblin Nation."

Ron frowned. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," Hermione said primly, "that the headmaster is about to get his arse kicked for putting the school in danger."

"Miss Granger!" Harry exclaimed in mock outrage. "Such language!"

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and the children all fell into fits of giggles until a very irritable Madam Pince ushered them out of the library.


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: Sorry this took so long. Work has been busy, and there was a death in my family. Hopefully I can get back on track. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorited, or even just stopped by to read. If you have any suggestions, ideas, or any characters you would like to see in the future, please don't hesitate to let me know. I take everything into consideration. I know this is a shorter chapter, but hang in there. I'll have more time soon. Thanks again!_

Harry and his friends eventually settled back into normal school life after their adventures in the Forest. At Hermione's persistent urging, they all, somewhat grudgingly, gave in and buckled down to their studies. The days passed by rather uneventfully, the end of term looming ever closer.

The quiet made Severus was restless. Quirrell had been apprehended by the Ministry as part of Lucius Malfoy and the Board of Educators' pending investigation, but had been deemed mentally unable to answer any questioning. He was a babbling, incoherent mess. Healers and tugged his grimy purple turban off to reveal extensive scarring on the back of the man's head. Further examination showed signs of possession, and Severus could well imagine just who had been taking residence up in the ex-Defense Professor.

The whole sordid business put him on edge. He was even moodier lately, snapping at students and taking points off for the slightest infractions, such as walking too fast, walking to slow, swallowing too loud, and one unfortunate girl lost Gryffindor House eighty points for sneezing in class. Even Harry had begun to avoid him and his temper, a fact he tried to tell himself didn't matter, because after all, he didn't even like the blasted boy.

Albus Dumbledore's demeanor toward his Potions Master had been increasingly icy. His official letter declaring him an enemy of the Goblin Nation had been delivered publicly at an emergency Wizengamot meeting by a particularly smooth-tongued goblin by the name of Griphook. Dumbledore had been enraged, his flowing white beard quivering in anger.

"This is outrageous!" he had cried out, sparks shooting from the tip of his wand. The other members of the Wizengamot had shifted uneasily and murmured amongst themselves.

"Furthermore," Griphook had continued smoothly, a gleam of gleeful malice in his dark eyes, "I would like to add that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is under investigation as per the request of one Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Noble House of Malfoy. All pertinent evidence regarding the Philosopher's Stone shall be handed in first to the Ministry of Magic, and then to the Goblin Nation, as it directly relates to a vault burglary that occurred earlier this year."

Albus Dumbledore had seen the looks his fellow witches and wizards were shooting him, and he had swallowed his anger and acquiesced with a false geniality. But once he had arrived back at Hogwarts, he had summoned Severus, who had been expecting the confrontation.

"Be very careful, my boy," the headmaster had said, his pale eyes piercing the younger man. "It was but by my grace of will that young Harry was put into your care. And things change, Severus. Oh, how things change."

A chill had crept up Severus's spine, but he had merely sneered. "I have legally adopted him, Albus. You cannot use that threat against me."

The headmaster had just nodded his head slightly, dismissing the Potions Master. "We shall see, my boy. We shall see."

Severus could only thank Merlin term was ending soon. He could take Harry back to Spinner's End, out of the constant calculating gaze of Albus Dumbledore. Whatever unpleasantness he had planned, Severus didn't want Harry caught in the middle of it. Thankfully, the boy was as dense as his father, oblivious to the tense undercurrents in the school as he studied and played with his friends. However, Draco Malfoy, Severus noted, was not. Severus often caught him staring at the headmaster through shrewd narrowed eyes. Lucius had taught the boy well. Severus was glad Draco had befriended Harry, for the Malfoy family was an asset they dearly needed now.

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"Severus," Harry said hesitantly one Saturday morning. They were having their usual breakfast in Severus's private chambers, Severus reviewing the week's homework and test results.

"Hmm?" Severus asked, taking a sip of coffee, his dark eyes reading over a History of Magic essay.

"Raiknok wrote me yesterday, and he told me that this summer I would be training to become a goblin warrior."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Dramatic as always. You will not be a warrior, but you will be furthering your swordplay and defensive strategies."

Harry frowned. "Why?"

Severus looked up sternly. "As you seem determined to have as many near death experiences as possible, I, and Ragnok, feel that would be helpful for you to have as many, shall we say, aces up your sleeve as possible."

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose. "Oh. Neat."

Severus snorted.

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The melting candle cast long shadows across his face as Albus Dumbledore paced his office, deep in thought. Fawkes watched his master, fluffing his feathers in worry. The air in the office was bitterly cold and magic swirled through the air, evidence of the headmaster's absolute anger. His eyes were hard bright chips in the flickering light.

Growling a bit, he suddenly spun around and grabbed a sheet of parchment. He sat down at his desk, picking up an elegant quill and dipping it in a jar of black ink.

_Cornelius,_

_Meet me at Hogwarts tomorrow at one pm. I have a matter of the gravest and upmost importance to discuss. _

Dumbledore hesitated, dripping quill in hand. He glanced toward the phoenix who was still watching him. Fawkes let out a low chirp, his intelligent eyes sad. Dumbledore scowled at his familiar.

"Oh, what do you know, you worthless bird," he muttered. He dipped the quill back into the ink.

_It is in regards to Mr. Sirius Orion Black._

Fawkes looked away, ducking his head.


	26. Chapter 26

The end of term came none too soon. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Neville passed their first year with excellent grades, thanks to a certain Miss Granger. Gryffindor won the House Cup, much to Ron and Neville's elation, and plans to meet up over the summer and practice Quidditch in hopes of making their respective House teams next year were made. Harry saw his friends off at the Hogsmeade train station, and then he and Severus Apparated back to Spinner's End.

Severus watched as Harry unpacked his trunk, scattering his school year mementos all over the place. A giant yellow and black Hufflepuff banner was put up over the bed and a tiny jar containing a luminescent unicorn hair was set on the shelf next to Harry's dragon and Gryffindor lion.

"Finished arranging all of your wordly goods?" Severus asked drily. Harry beamed at him, straightening a picture of him and Draco pushing Ron into the Black Lake.

"Yup. What's for supper? Can Draco come over tomorrow? When can I introduce Hermione and Neville to Raiknok? Are we going to France to see Adrien and Luc this summer? Can Hermione come? Will you buy me a broom so I can practice Quiddtich?"

Severus held up a hand to halt the barrage of questions. "Slow down, Potter. Your summer homework will be done before any gallivanting with those nuisances you call friends. As for France, we will see. And as for a broom, absolutely not."

Harry groaned. "Sev'rus!"

Severus merely raised a brow, and Harry sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Come, then," Severus said. "Let us go eat dinner."

Together, the two walked in companionable silence to the kitchen.

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"Raiknok!" Harry yelped joyfully, throwing his arms around his goblin friend. Raiknok chuckled, patting his back.

"Good day, Harry. I am glad you have returned."

Harry grinned. "Of course I returned. And I brought my friends!"

Raiknok looked past Harry to Draco, Ron, Neville, and Hermione.

"Good day, Draco. Good day, Ronald," the goblin prince said, bowing his head slightly. "And you must be Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. It is an honor to meet the friends of my friend." He gently kissed the back of Hermione's hand and inclined his head respectfully to Neville. Both looked wide-eyed.

"Raiknok, I was wondering if maybe they could join us in our lessons, or at least watch," Harry said, eyes hopeful. The goblin carefully looked each child over.

"I think that would be acceptable," he finally said, his eyes lingering thoughtfully on a nervous Neville. "Perhaps, as you are friends of Harry Potter, some skill in physical defense will be useful in the future."

The friends grinned at each other, following Raiknok down into the bowels of the bank. Ragnok shook Severus's hand.

"Greetings, brother," he said. "We have another guest joining us today."

Severus groaned as Adrien Barclay came into view, shaggy golden hair gleaming.

"Come" Ragnok said, "Let us adjourn to my office. We have much to discuss."

Severus settled himself into one of the comfier chairs the goblin had to provide. Adrien casually and elegantly sprawled out in the seat next to him, and Ragnok took his place behind his massive wooden desk. He nodded toward Adrien.

"I hear Harry is now Lord of the Unicorns," the werewolf said without preamble. Severus eyed the man warily.

"So it would seem."

"A most excellent allegiance, I am sure we all agree," the goblin stated.

"Indeed."

"I have some news," Adrien said. Severus raised a brow.

"A man of my kind, a rogue wolf not of my pack, has recently visited France. He has been in self-imposed isolation for a decade and has not kept up with any of the rumors or gossip among our kind. When he heard that Harry Potter was now the Boy-Who-Runs-With-Wolves, he was very shocked indeed."

Severus had a very bad feeling about where this was going.

"This man, Mr. Lupin, apparently has some ties to the boy. Do you know him?"

Severus was tense and white-knuckled. "No."

Ragnok cast him a quick look. "Who is he, Severus?"

Severus growled low in his throat. "Nobody.  
Adrien looked stern. "If he is a threat to Harry Potter, we will make sure he is no more."

For a long moment, Severus was incredibly tempted to deem Remus Lupin just that, but finally he sighed grudgingly. "I doubt he is much threat, aside from the obvious danger of his…condition." He cast a scornful look at Adrien, who merely smiled lazily. "He is…he was a friend of Potter's parents."

"I thought as much," Adrien said. "Well, while this rogue wolf was in France, he received an anonymous letter. He was kind enough to share this missive with me. In this letter was evidence that a Mr. Sirius Black, a resident of Britain's infamous Azkaban, was innocent of the crimes which put him there."

Severus and Ragnok both froze. Adrien eyed them shrewdly.

"Who is Sirius Black?"

"A murderer," Severus spat with venom.

"And Harry Potter's legal godfather," the goblin added softly.

"What is Lupin going to do?" Severus said in a restrained voice, anger making his dark eyes glow.

"He has already filed an appeal with the Ministry for wrongful imprisonment…and it was approved almost immediately. Strange, no? There will be a trial in one week's time."

Severus and Ragnok looked at each other worriedly.

"We will be there," Severus said in a determined voice.

"What will you tell Harry?"

Severus sighed, looking away. "I don't know."

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Deep in the belly of Gringotts, three wizards and one witch watched in stupefied disbelief as Neville Longbottom and Raiknok of the goblins dueled. Neville's round, normally nervous face was set in concentration his hair matted with sweat. He parried the goblin's blows, giving as good as he got until his foot slipped on the stone floor and he stumbled. Raiknok's sword was at his throat in a flash.

"Impressive," the young goblin said, peering down at the panting boy with interest. "Was that truly your first time wielding a blade?"

Neville stood, wiping sweat off of his face. "Yes."

"You have a great inherent skill," Raiknok said. "With the proper training, you will become a master swordsman."

"Whoa, Neville," Harry said, much impressed. "That was brilliant!"

"Wicked cool," Ron agreed.

Neville beamed, swiping some brown hair out of his face.

"Really?"

Draco shook his head, a bemused expression on his pale face. "I did not see that coming."

Hermione hugged the sweaty boy. "That was amazing, Nev!"

Neville turned to Raiknok, a fierce look in his normally passive eyes. "Can you teach me more?"

Raiknok eyed the boy for a long minute before nodding. "It will be an honor to teach such a skilled student."

Neville's face practically glowed. The only thing he had ever been good at was Herbology, and while that was useful, it wasn't enough to impress people. Now he had a real chance to make a name for himself. He vowed silently to work as hard as possible to learn how to effectively wield his blade.

"Thank you," he said, bowing to Raiknok. Raiknok looked pleased.

"You are welcome."

That night, as Harry chattered on and on, describing his day's training in great and minuscule detail, he failed to notice Severus's distracted nods and responses. He had just started his story of Neville's amazing feats when his guardian interrupted him.

"Harry," he said. "We need to have a talk."

Harry paused midsentence, looking at Severus worriedly, brow furrowed. "Am I in trouble?"

Severus sighed. "No. No, Harry, we need to talk about your…your parents. Have you ever heard of Sirius Black?"

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Lucius Malfoy listened to his son talk about his day with the goblins. Though he by no means approved of his heir spending time with creatures such as goblins, he recognized the value of having a friendship with those who controlled the world's wealth. For Draco to receive training with a blade by a goblin prince…well, it was unheard of. And from what Lucius could gather, it was all the result of Harry James Potter.

Harry Potter. Friend of goblins and werewolves, lord of unicorns, ward of Severus Snape. The boy was clearly powerful and a skilled diplomat. The Malfoy family had survived for generations by aligning themselves with those is power, and Lucius had enjoyed the power the Dark Lord had afforded him. However, there seemed to be a new power in Britain, a powerful leader in the form of one small Hufflepuff boy.

His son had made his choice. Draco had befriended Harry and remained loyal to the Potter heir. Perhaps he was right, Lucius thought, eyeing his bright-eyed son fondly. Perhaps it was time to officially declare allegiance to a new lord. His thoughts drifted to a small, leather-bound book he had hidden in his study. An old diary, bestowed upon him by the Dark Lord himself.

A powerful object of Dark Magic, Lucius knew. He had been told that it would help rid Hogwarts of mudbloods and that he was to somehow get it into the school as soon as he could. But perhaps he culd use the diary as a show of goodwill, as a show of his deference to a new leader.

Yes, he mused, watching Draco swing an imaginary sword around, nearly toppling over, he would present the diary to the goblins first thing in the morning. From here on out, the Malfoy family supported Harry Potter, even If that meant tolerating goblins and werewolves and mudbloods. Sacrifices had to be made, after all, and it certainly couldn't hurt to ally themselves with the ones who guarded their gold.


	27. Chapter 27

After a lot of deliberation, Severus decided it would be best if Harry wasn't around for the trial of Sirius Black. So it was decided that Harry and the Granger girl would be spending two weeks in southern France with Adrien Barclay and his pack. Severus had very grudgingly agreed to the arrangement after Ragnok's calm and reasonable argument regarding Harry's mental health and the damage that could be wrought to it should he be present at the trial of his parents' betrayer. When Harry had heard the news, he had been absolutely delighted and immediately had pleaded to bring Hermione alone with him, as she was currently researching werewolves.

Unable to silence those persistent pleas, Severus had begrudgingly written a letter to the girl's parents, who had given their permission for their daughter to go on vacation with Harry. And so it was a bright and sunny afternoon when Harry and Hermione found themselves in a charming villa in France.

"Please," Adrien said graciously, smiling at the children, "Make yourselves at home. France is quite lovely this time of year, and I am certain Luc would not mind showing you around. Right, Luc?" He arched a golden brow at his younger brother, who nodded.

"Of course," the young werewolf said, smiling. Hermione smiled back shyly, her cheeks pink.

"Well then," Adrien said, "I have some business to attend to. Dinner will be at eight. Have fun." He strode out of the room, and Luc looked at the other two.

"What shall we do?"

Hermione's face brightened. "Oh, may we visit Sète? I've read so much about it, it sounds fascinating! Also, we should go to Montpellier , I've always wanted to visit there! There's so much rich cultural history!"

Luc smiled kindly at the younger girl. "Ah, such passion in such a lovely girl. It is a pleasure to see."

Hermione blushed, lowering her sparkling cinnamon eyes. "Thank you," she murmured. Luc gently lifted her chin up, smiling down at her. Harry stared between the older boy and his friend, brow furrowed.

"Er…" he said, "Should we….go, then?"

Luc tore his eyes away from Hermione, grinning at Harry. His shaggy hair, just a shade lighter than his brother's, flopped into his honey-colored eyes.

"Yes," he said. "I am fourteen years old, and I have yet to experience showing my country off. Let us be off. I know some places Hermione will greatly enjoy."

Hermione smiled at him, brushing a curl back behind her ear. Harry frowned.

"Okay…" he said, trailing out of the room after the two, his lips turned down.

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Sirius Black shifted in the rusted steel chair, the manacles rubbing against his bony wrists painfully. His matted black hair fell far past his thin shoulders, and his dark eyes were shadowed and hallowed in his pale face. Severus's glare scorched him, burning him to his very soul…what was left of his soul, anyway.

The courtroom watched in silence as a guard lifted the vial of truth serum, brewed by Severus Snape himself to the highest potency possible without being lethal, to the shadow of a man's lips. Sirius swallowed the potion with difficulty, his eyes immediately glazing over as he slumped in the chair, which rattled threateningly.

"Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Noble House of Black, you stand before us today charged with the crimes of being a Death Eater. Is that charge true and accurate?"

"No."

Murmurs broke out across the room, quickly silenced by Conelius Fudge's glare.

"Mr. Black," the Minister said, his voice booming, "Have you ever participated in the activities of the Death Eaters or followed orders given from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or any person affiliated with him?"

"No."

"Sirius Black, did you, on the night of Halloween 1981, reveal the whereabouts of Lily and James Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or any person affiliated with him, resulting in their deaths?"

There was a long, tense silence. Severus's breath caught in his throat as he stared hatefully at the shell of his former enemy. This man was the reason Lily was dead, was the reason Harry had been left with those bloody muggles. This man…

"No."

There was a stunned silence in the courtroom.

"Impossible," Severus croaked hoarsely, "Impossible…"

Fudge frowned uneasily. "Please clarify your answer, Mr. Black. Were you not the Potters' Secret Keeper?"

Sirius Black looked up at the minister, his dark eyes clouded by grief and potion. "No."

Agitated whispers broke out, and Severus slumped back in his seat, pale. A cold sweat was beading on his skin.

"Do you know who, then, was the Potter's Secret Keeper?"

"Yes," Sirius whispered. "Yes."

"For Merlin's sake, Mr. Black, who was the Potters' Secret Keeper on Halloween night of 1981?"

Sirius swallowed heavily, his skin even more pallid than before. The entire courtroom leaned forward in anticipation.

"Peter Pettigrew."

All hell broke loose.

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Harry scowled at his half-finished sand castle, his eyes darting back to the water for the millionth time. Hermione and Luc were splashing about in the waves. Luc had taken his shirt off to expose smooth tanned skin, and Hermione was wearing an oversize shirt that hung down to her knees. They were throwing water at each other, laughing. Hermione's wet curls clung to her head, gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight.

"Harry!" she called to her bespectacled friend. "Come in the water with us!"

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "No. I want to finish my castle."

Hermione waded out of the waves and made her way to Harry, leaving wet footprints on the shimmering sand. She kneeled down, peering at the sad castle. She smelled of sunlight and seawater.

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, "I think it needs a drawbridge." She looked around until her eyes fell upon a small bit of driftwood, which she snatched up triumphantly.

"I think it needs a moat as well," Luc said, kneeling down next to the other two.

"And a Quidditch pitch!" Harry chirped, feeling much happier as Hermione carefully put the drawbridge into place.

Luc eagerly agreed, and the children played together in the warm sand as the sun sank beneath the gentle rippling waves.


	28. Chapter 28

Harry sighed, cupping his chin in his hand as he watched Luc and Hermione play wizarding chess by the cheerfully crackling fire in the parlor of Adrien and Luc's home in France. Tomorrow he and Hermione would return Britain, and Harry found he was incredibly eager to get back to Spinner's End and Severus. The last week hadn't been very much fun, because Hermione and Luc often seemed to forget he was there. And sometimes he didn't really understand their long, intense conversations. It made him feel boring and dumb.

Added to that, he was nervous about returning to Spinner's End. A couple of days ago, Adrien had pulled him aside and led him to a cozy kitchen, where he had given him a cup of hot cocoa to sip while he explained that Sirius Black's trial had reached a verdict of not guilty. What this meant, the werewolf explained gently, was that Sirius Black was now a free man and he might want to come visit Harry.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. Surely if they Ministry decided Sirius Black wasn't guilty, then that meant he didn't really betray Harry's parents. But on the other hand, if he wasn't guilty, then why was he in Azkaban in the first place and why did Severus hate him so much?

Harry sighed again, slumping down dejectedly in his armchair. He wished he could talk to Hermione about it, but his friend was always around Luc. The werewolf boy was nice enough, Harry supposed, but he really wished he would go somewhere else for a bit and leave Harry and Hermione alone. Harry hopped off the chair sadly, making his way to the guest bedroom where he had been staying. The other two children didn't seem to notice his departure.

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"Absolutely not!" Severus snarled, his body tense as a predatory cat.

Albus Dumbledore gave him a patronizing smile. "Severus, Sirius has a legal right to see Harry. You know that."

Sirius Black shifted uncomfortably, looking between the two angry wizards.

"I don't give a damn about his legal rights! He is NOT seeing Harry!"

Albus narrowed his eyes. "Lily and James' wills both name Sirius Black as a legal guardian in the event of their untimely demise."

"That's too bloody bad, seeing as I already legally adopted the boy!"

"He is still Harry's godfather, and as such, he has access to the child."

"Fine," Severus growled, his obsidian eyes glittering. "Let's go to Gringotts this very moment and read the bloody will. Merlin knows Harry could use his family fortune back."

Sirius blinked, turning to Albus. "What? What does he mean, 'could use his family fortune back'? Where's James and Lily's money?"

Severus barked out a bitter laugh. "Oh, that's rich. Your pet dog is as much a pawn as the rest of us in your sordid little game of power."

Albus ignored the Potions Master. "The Potters' gave permission to appropriate their wealth to the war fund when they took the Oath to be in the Order. Everyone did."

Sirius gaped. "You took the Potter wealth away from Harry?"

Albus sighed, adjusting his half-moon spectacles. "I left enough to get him comfortably through his school years."

Severus let out a mirthless chuckle. "Now tell the mutt why you feel he won't need any finances after Hogwarts, headmaster."

Sirius shot a filthy look at Severus, but arched a brow at Albus, who sighed heavily.

"You know of the Prophecy, Sirius. You know why they went into hiding. Harry is the one with the power to save us all."

"POWER?" Severus roared. "What bloody power? He is a mediocre student at best. Without that girl Granger's help, he wouldn't even be passing his classes. He has the attention span of a bloody magpie and has never exhibited any sort of cunning or cleverness. He is extraordinarily ordinary."

"What ordinary boy befriends goblins and werewolves and has unicorns plead allegiance to him?"

Sirius gave a strangled cough. "Unicorns? Goblins? What the bloody hell?"

"You are just waiting for him to up and sacrifice himself to your bloody 'noble cause', Albus, and I refuse to let that happen!"

Sirius Black frowned. "Alright, look. I clearly have no bloody idea what the fuck is going on, but here is what I think. I am not fit to be Harry's guardian, and it seems like he is doing well under Snivellus' care, as appalling and extraordinary as that seems. I do, however, retain legal right to see him, as he is my godson and the son of my best friend, and I will not hesitate to take fight for custody if I feel his is being mistreated in any way. That being said, I do not believe some blasted Prophecy controls the lad's life, and I won't allow him to be forced into anything for any reason."

"Sirius," Albus said gravely. "Do you understand you are betraying the Order with your actions?"

"How ironic, your loyal dog is refusing to obey. Are you going to smack him with a rolled-up newspaper, Dumbledore?" Severus sneered.

Sirius bared his teeth at Severus. "Watch it, you greasy git. I'm loyal, but I'm loyal to my friends first. I know James would never want his son to be pressured or guilt-tripped into risking his live in his parents' war."

"Don't you see?" Albus Dumbledore growled in frustration. "It's no longer his parent's war. It's his war now too! What will you have us do, then, when Voldemort returns to full power?"

"Voldemort is still dead, Albus," Sirius said.

"You fool! He isn't gone, and Severus knows it as well as I do."

"He's right," Severus grudgingly admitted. "I do not believe the Dark Lord is dead. But regardless, Harry has no place in the battle. Who puts children on the front-line in a war?"

"Harry Potter is the only one who can truly defeat Lord Voldemort," the headmaster said wearily. "You both can try to deny that fact, but Fate will not let him escape his destiny. It would be far better if he were properly trained as a soldier, but it seems you two are determined to see to it that he fails. It will be the death of us all, you know. I hope you can live with that on your conscience."

Sirius sighed heavily as Albus strode out of the room, his blue and silver cloak swirling behind him.

"I will see Harry."

"I don't think so," Severus snapped, running a hand through his hair.

"Look, Sni-Snape, we are on the same side here now. I could care less about you, I still think you are a big-nosed greasy git, but I stand behind Harry. Just like you."

Severus was silent, eyes narrowed.

"Tell me," Sirius said suddenly, "why did you adopt him?"

"You will inform me of your visit 24 hours prior to the event," Severus said stiffly. "I will let you know if the timing is appropriate and if Harry even wants to see you."

He strode out of the room, leaving a bemused Sirius alone.

"What the hell is going on, James?" he whispered to the empty room before rubbing his temple wearily and following Severus out. The smell of rain and honeysuckle lingered gently behind him, slowly fading away.


	29. Chapter 29

**_A/N: Thanks for all of your patience and continued support. The last few weeks have been pretty busy, but your reviews have motivated me to get in gear and get more chapters out. so thanks again, and I hope you guys enjoy1_**

Severus's sitting room was almost unbearably tense. Severus himself sat stiff-backed in his favorite chair, his long fingers drumming the arm impatiently. Across from him sat Sirius Black, looking nearly civilized courtesy of a recent haircut and shave. He was holding himself very still, as though he were afraid to move. And Harry was on the loveseat, his sneakered feet dangling, unusually quiet and shy. An untouched tray of tea and biscuits adorned the side table. The only sound in the room was the sound of the clock on the mantle ticking.

Harry shifted, glancing uncomfortably at his guardian and the man they said was his godfather. They both looked as though they would rather be anywhere but where they currently were.

Tick.

Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly, and Severus shot him a scathing glare.

Tock.

Severus sighed deeply, internally bitterly cursing James Potter his choice of friends.

Tick.

Harry coughed. Sirius jumped, and then smiled sheepishly.

Tock.

Suddenly the clock in the hallway chimed ten, and everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well," Sirius said, nearly leaping to his feet. "Harry."

Harry peered at him from under his black fringe of hair.

"I should be going. Er, same time next time, then?"

"We will look forward to it with abundant glee," Severus said drily.

Sirius looked as though he wanted to retort, but instead merely left, head high. Severus smirked.

Harry slumped down in the loveseat, suddenly feeling exhausted.

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The rest of the summer passed uneventfully, with several more strange, stilted supervised visits with Sirius, each one more awkward than the last. Harry spent time with all of his friends, completed his summer homework, and continued his training with Raiknok. Soon, first day of term had arrived and Harry found himself once again back in Hogwart's halls as a second year student.

Happy to be back, Harry and Draco were chattering about their summers as they walked into their first period class of their second year, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Before they had even made it two steps into the classroom, however, Harry found himself roughly grabbed by the arm and dragged to the front of the room.

"Harry Potter!" A jovial voice boomed, and Harry stared wide-eyed at the pretty man grasping him.

"An honor to meet you, though surely not such an honor as it is for you to meet me, your new Defense professor and three-time winner of Witch Weekly's most charming smile, Gilderoy Lockhart!"

"Um, sir…" Harry said, trying futilely to pull his arm from the petite man's surprisingly iron grip.

"Yes, Harry, my boy, I would be delighted to sign an autograph for you!" Professor Lockhart said in an overly loud voice, producing a feathered quill with the hand not hold Harry to his side.

"Please…" Harry whispered, his heart rate accelerating. His breath caught in his throat, blocking the tears that threatened to fall.

"Oh, do come on, my boy! At least smile! I know yours isn't as dazzling as mine, but this will be front page tomorrow, you see if it isn't!"

"No…"Harry whispered, blurry and vague memories of being held down and loud booming voices filling his head. His glasses fell off his face crookedly and he felt very dizzy and afraid. His heart was racing so fast it felt as though it was going to tear through his chest. Tears began to fall down his face as he struggled fiercely to get his arm free.

Suddenly, his arm was released and he fell backwards, frantically scrambling back against the wall, trembling.

Draco Malfoy rubbed the hand he had just used to punch his new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in the face and stared around the room imperiously. "Well, go on!" he snapped irritably. "Somebody go fetch Professor Snape!"

Harry whimpered, drawing his knees up to his chin and sobbing silently as the rest of the class waited with bated breath. Professor Lockhart pulled himself up blearily, holding his bleeding nose in horror.

"My face!" he cried. "You! You will pay for this!"

Draco glared back, unfazed.

"What the devil is going on here?" a familiar voice suddenly hissed, and everyone in the room stepped back as Severus Snape billowed impressively into the room. His dark eyes drifted over Draco's defiant stance and Lockhart's battered face before coming to a rest on his ward curled up in a ball under the blackboard.

"Professor Lockhart grabbed Harry, sir," Draco said, grey eyes burning holes in the aforementioned professor. "He wouldn't let Harry go and Harry had a panic attack."

"I was merely introducing myself to the boy!" Lockhart snapped. "How was I to know he had a weak constitution?"

"Enough!" Severus roared. "Mr. Malfoy, escort Mr. Potter to the infirmary."

Draco nodded curtly, gently helping Harry up. Harry wiped his face with his sleeve, suddenly incredibly embarrassed that his classmates all witnessed his tears. He followed his friend silently out of the classroom, eyes glued to the floor. Just before they turned the corner, Severus called out to them.

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco turned around.

"60 points to Slytherin."

Draco smirked, pulling Harry away. Severus rounded on Lockhart, eyes flashing.

"You," he growled, his voice sharpened steel. The slim fair-haired professor took a fearful step away from the bristling Potions Master. "If you ever lay a hand on my ward again, you will live to regret it."

He turned and swept out of the classroom, leaving silent students and a trembling professor behind.

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"What a way to start our first day back," Draco said as he guided Harry up the staircase toward the infirmary.

Harry remained silent.

"Hey, don't feel bad. That bloke's a nutter," Draco said, giving his friend's shoulder a little nudge. "And pretty like a woman, too. Ugh."

Harry cast a small smile as he surveyed his friend's delicate features. Draco didn't notice.

Suddenly, something wet hit Harry square in the face. Sputtering, he looked up toward the ceiling, where Peeves the poltergeist was floating, holding water balloons.

"Bollocks," Draco swore, glaring at the poltergeist.

"Ooooh wittle secondies!" Peeves chortled gleefully, juggling the balloons. "Shall we see how fast the wittle ones can run?"

He hoisted his missile up, but before he could launch it another ghost drifted through the stone wall of the corridor. Silvery blood dripped from ghostly wounds, chains clanking slightly. Peeves' eyes widened as he hastily dropped the balloon.

"Oh, your Baroness," he said, bowing. The Bloody Baron merely glared at the poltergeist, who gulped audibly and fled, disappearing through the ceiling.

"Wicked," Draco breathed.

Harry stared as the Bloody Baron drifted past him. Entranced, he reached out a hand and let is fall through the silver mist of the specter. The world suddenly went dark and cold around him.

"_Do not disobey me, Helena!" a handsome, dark haired young man growled, visibly trying to reign in his temper._

"_What care you?" a pretty young witch retorted, her long silvery hair tossed defiantly over her pale shoulder._

"_I loved you! I still do! That child is ours! She is proof of our love!"_

"_The child is a muggle!"_

_The dark haired man's eyes flashed with temper. "Tell me what you did with her."_

_The witch laughed, her pretty face mocking. "You wouldn't know what to do with a muggle child. Just let it be!"_

"_Retrieve Lydia and return to Hogwarts with me. Helena, your mother is worried…"_

"_Ha!" cried Helen in disdain. "She is worried that I will be cleverer and wiser than her with this diadem!"_

"_Helena…"_

"_I never loved you, do you know that? That night was a mistake. A moment of fancy when we were too far into our cups."_

_The dark haired man paled, as though hit with staggering pain. "But…"_

"_You're a fool. Just like my mother."_

_Ugly rage filled the young man's once handsome face as he lunged at the witch, eyes wild. His hand grappled with something in his tunic, and there was a glint of silver as a dagger was pulled forth. The girl gasped, struggling fiercely. Their two bodies were intertwined, a blur, a parody of a lover's embrace._

_And then the girl fell, dropping the ground, blood spilling from her chest. The dark haired man stared in horror at the stained dagger in his hands._

"_NOOOO!" he howled in rage, terror, and anguish, dropping to his knees. "NOOO! Helena! I am so sorry! My love, please wake up! HELENA!"_

_The witch gave no response as her chest rose and then fell with her last breath._

_The man grabbed the dagger in both hands, turning it toward himself. With a last pain-filled cry, he plunged it into his heart._

Harry staggered backwards, bathed in a freezing sweat. He and the Bloody Baron stared at each other in mutual shock before the Baron hastily faded away. Harry breathed heavily, ignoring Draco's concerned voice.

What had just happened?


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thanks for the continued reads and support. I appreciate every one of you, and hopefully I will have more time to update soon! Once again, thank you all.

Hermione Granger had a very satisfying first day of her second year at Hogwarts. She had been reunited with her best friends, had gotten a fulfilling class schedule, and her new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was devastatingly handsome. She even got assigned a three-foot long essay on the properties of Grindylow tears in healing salves in Potions, which gave her an excuse to spend several hours in the library.

Yes, Hermione thought as she snuggled under her soft blankets in her bed high up in the Ravenclaw tower. Today had been good. She sighed contently, her breathing becoming steady and even as she drifted off to sleep. And as she slept, she dreamed of a young, beautiful woman with flowing hair. Her dreams became restless as she tossed and turned, sweat dotting her pale brow. Nearby, a ghost watched the girl sleep for what seemed like eternity before silently drifting away.

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Harry groaned, tossing down his quill. "This is rubbish!"

Draco arched a golden brow, glancing up from his Potions essay. "What's rubbish?"

Harry huffed out a sigh, ruffling the unruly black curls that fell into his eyes with his breath. "It's Friday. Why are we here inside instead of out there, practicing for Quidditch tryouts?" He gestured toward the window, where cheerful late afternoon sunlight was streaming into the library.

"He's right," Ron agreed, also dropping his quill with a savage sort of satisfaction. "It's brilliant out right now, and we have all weekend to finish this. Let's grab our brooms and head out."

"Oh, let's!" Ginny Weasley said eagerly. It was her first year at Hogwarts, and already she was sick of the schoolwork. A few hours on her broom with her friends were just the thing she needed. Ginny's new friend Luna, a fellow first year with silvery hair and wide blue eyes, bit her lip anxiously.

"I don't think Hermione would be able to survive outside. This is, after all, her natural habitat. A changeling might steal her away."

Neville guffawed loudly, drawing the irritated glare of Madam Pince. He immediately flushed, knocking over an inkwell in his embarrassment. Draco sighed loudly, Vanishing the spilled ink before it could ruin his essay.

"Very funny," Hermione said dryly, flipping through a thick and rather dusty tome without looking up. "Look, you guys can go if you want, but don't come crying to me when your essays aren't done on time."

"Mine's already done," Draco announced smugly, rolling up his parchment neatly. Hermione sputtered, dropping her book with an embarrassingly loud thud. Madam Pince glowered at her. Blushing, she scooped the book up again.

"What? How? Did you list all seven properties? Because you know without that seventh property, it renders the entire thing completely useless and…"

"Hermione!" Draco said, amused. "Yes, I remembered all seven properties. Eight, if you count the derivative of the sixth when harvested on the full moon."

Hermione paled. "Eight?" She began shuffling through the pages of her book anxiously, muttering to herself. Draco chuckled. Ginny rolled her amber eyes, pushing back her chair and standing up.

"Well, while she's busy freaking out, how about we go play some Quidditch?"

Ron, Harry, and Draco cheered. Neville shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking downcast. "Er, I think I'll stay here with Hermione…"

Harry nodded in understanding. Neville was inexplicably clumsy, and heights weren't his friend. He and the others gathered their books, eager to be free from the confines of the castle and outside in the fresh air. Luna remained in her seat, staring dreamily at a dust mote floating in a patch of sunlight. "I think I'll stay with Neville and Hermione."

Neville blushed slightly, falling out of his chair. The others called out their goodbyes as they trooped out of the library. All was quiet for a few moments, the only sound being Hermione turning pages and her quill scratching on the parchment. Luna transferred her wide gaze onto the older girl, her eyes impossibly blue.

Hermione scribbled down her notes, feeling awkward under the younger Ravenclaw's intense gaze. She tried to ignore it, but it quickly became unbearable.

"Er, Luna?" she said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Luna blinked, her thick black lashes fluttering. "Why are you staring at me?"

Luna shrugged. "I wanted to see what she was looking at."

Neville frowned. "She?"

Luna lifted a pale, delicate hand and pointed. Hermione and Neville looked over their shoulders. The Grey Lady, ghost of the Ravenclaw House, was floating by a nearby bookshelf, her sad gaze on Hermione.

"Why is she watching you, 'Mione?" Neville asked quietly.

Hermione frowned uneasily. "I…I don't know why she's looking at me."

Luna smiled gently. "It's nothing to be worried about. She's just remembering, is all."

Hermione looked at the girl. "Remembering what?"

But Luna's thoughts had drifted, and she was humming to herself as she absently drew a strange, large-eyed mammal on her parchment. Hermione cast an exasperated look at Neville, who shrugged. She sighed, pulling her book toward her. Before she got back to her essay, she cast one more look over her shoulder. The Grey Lady was gone.

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Severus's dark brow was furrowed as he marked his third years' essays. They were hopeless, smudged and unorganized. He was steadily growing more and more annoyed as his green ink covered nearly every piece of parchment. Dunderheads, the lot of them. Not a single intelligent child in all of Hogwarts. They were all…

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as he caught sight of something in his peripheral vision. Frowning, he turned.

The Bloody Baron was hovering beside the fireplace. The orange flames were shimmering eerily through his misty form.

"Baron," Severus said respectfully, if shortly. "Is everything all right?"

The ghost merely stared at him, his eyes fathomless.

Severus scowled. "Is there a reason why you're interrupting my grading?"

Still the ghost made no reply. His chains clanked softly as his eyes bored into the Potions Master.

"Right," Severus muttered irritably, turning back to his stack of essays. "Bloody nuisance of a ghost."

The Bloody Baron watched silently for a few more moments before fading away. Unnoticed by Severus, a single lock of curly hair floated gently to the carpet as the ghost disappeared. The hair was chestnut brown.


	31. Chapter 31

It was dark.

That was the first thing Hermione noticed. Blinking, she sat up, blearily taking in her surroundings with steadily growing confusion. Crickets chirped and pale moonlight filtered through leafy boughs. A soft breeze tousled her curls. She frowned, pushing herself off of the ground, her logical mind buzzing.

A few hours ago, she had laid down in her comfortable four-poster bed in the Ravenclaw Tower and gone to sleep. She did not remember waking up, and yet she clearly was no longer in her dorm, or even in Hogwarts. Rubbing the last bit of sleep out of her eyes, she glanced around, the furrow on her brow deepening. It was early October. The breeze that was drifting through the night air should be brisk and cool, not heavy and warm. Glancing down at herself, she was surprised to see not the nightgown she had donned before bed but a simple, rough-spun peasant dress.

Brushing her heavy hair out of her face, she bit her lip. The first thing to do, she decided, was to figure out where she was. Taking a deep breath, she began to walk, her bare feet treading across the ground silently. It was early night, judging from the position of the full moon in the sky. She cocked her head at the glowing orb, eyes narrowed. She had just had an Astronomy class last night, and the moon had been waning. Uneasily, she continued walking.

After about twenty minutes, the trees began to thin out and Hermione found herself standing at the top of a hill that was overlooking a tiny village. Breathing out a relieved sigh, she headed toward the houses, hoping to finally get some answers.

* * *

Harry inhaled the wonderful scents of breakfast happily. The Great Hall was just starting to fill up, sleepy students slowly trickling in and greeting their friends with low murmurs. The post had just arrived, and the Hall was filled with the rustling of paper as letters were opened and papers were read.

Harry happily munched his toast, his mind on his Potions class first period. He had a test today and he had been very vigilant in his studying, hoping to please Severus. He buttered another piece of bread, humming to himself. A tap on his shoulder interrupted his breakfast. He turned to see a worried-looking Padma Patil and a calm Luna Lovegood.

"Harry," she said hesitantly. Harry smiled kindly at her, adjusting his glasses, which were slipping down his nose.

"Morning, Padma, Luna. Where's Hermione?"

Padma shifted slightly. "That's what I came to talk to you about. Harry...I think soething's wrong with Hermione."

Harry frowned, sudden concern filling him. "What?"

"She won't wake up."

"Hey, guys. What's this, a party I wasn't invited to?"

A sleepy-looking Draco Malfoy sauntered over to them, yawning widely, blonde hair messy.

Harry ignored him. "What do you mean, Hermione won't wake up?"

Draco's grey eyes became alert, tiredness fading from them. "Hermione?"

Padma worried her lip between her teeth. "We tried everything, Harry. She won't wake up. She just lays there, all pale and sweaty."

"She's not here," Luna spoke up in her melodic voice. "She's left."

The others ignored her.

"Have you told a teacher?" Draco demanded. The girls shook their heads, and Draco threw up his hands in frustration. "Why the bloody hell not?"

Turning, he stormed up to the staff table, the girls following meekly in his wake. Harry tossed his toast down and hurried after them.

"Professor!" Draco shouted. Severus sighed and narrowed his dark eyes, taking in the children as he sipped his steaming coffee.

"I trust one of you is dying. I can think of no other reason you would be bothering me this early," he sneered.

"Yes! Hermione!"

Severus very nearly choked on his coffee. "Pardon?"

"Something's wrong with Hermione, sir," Padma spoke up timidly. "She won't wake up."

Professor Flitwick stood up before Severus could respond, hurrying out of the Hall. Severus sighed before standing as well.

"Go alert Madame Pomfrey to meet us in the Ravenclaw tower," he ordered, his cloak billowing as he strode after Flitwick. The children nodded, scurrying off.

From the corner of the Hall, a pale figure silently watched the exchange before fading away.

Hermione frowned as she walked through the darkened village. Something wasn't right. The houses were old, made of wood and mud. Pigs, chickens, and goats roamed about freely. And on top of all that, the village was Muggle.

Her head was spinning as she tried to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, there was a noise behind her.

"Lydia! There you are! What do ye think ye are doing?" a voice demanded in a whisper. Spinning around, Hermione came face to face with a young Muggle boy. His straw-like hair flopped into his freckled, dirty face.

"I..." Hermione said. "Who are you?"

The boy scowled. "Now's no time tp play games, Lydia. If Ma finds out you've gone, there will be hell to pay, there will."

Hermione stepped back. "I'm sorry, but who are you? Where am I?"

Rolling his eyes, the boy grabbed his arm with his grubby fingers. "Stop playin' around and get going! We can't be caught out! You know what will happen."

Hermione tugged her arm free. "Look, I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong person. I don't know who you are."

"Come on!" the boy whispered urgently. "We need to get back before Ma wakes up. Come on, then."

Hermione debated internally with herself for a moment. If she went with the boy, perhaps she could better figure out where she was. Maybe he could led her to someone who could help her. Taking a deep breath, she sighed.

"Okay, let's go."

Flashing her a wide gap-toothed smile, the boy turned and trotted off. Hermione took one last confused look around her before slowly following.


End file.
